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princessmisery666 · 2 years

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Broken Promises - Part 4 - All Or Nothing Mini Series

Summary: The broken promises have a devastating effect, causing painful decisions.

Warnings: angst, not everyone gets a happy ending, end of a friendship, self loathing.

W/C: 2.8k

Rating: E (explicit - 18+)

Characters: Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw.

Pairing: Rooster x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: I’m sorry. That’s all I have, an apology. That being said, I love this chapter.

Graphics: dividers @writercole // title card made by me.

Catch Up Here: All Or Nothing

Master Lists: Top Gun Maverick // All The Fandoms

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are my own.

Broken Promises

It feels like emotional suicide. Jake knows no good will come of him scrolling your Instagram feed. Seeing your content smile next to Bradley’s beaming love-filled grin makes his heart sick. Yet his thumb continues, the pictures get older, and he replaces Bradley at your side.

Photos of your life together assault the tenuous state of his sanity — a holiday to Mexico, crystal clear water up to your knees, fruity, bright cocktails in hand, Jake’s arm around your waist. The Christmas you went with his family to Lapland, you sitting on Santa’s lap while Jake pointed an accusing finger as if Santa had been naughty. A picture of Jake sleeping, head in your lap with the caption - “He’s cute when he’s sleeping.” Another on his graduation day, your beyond proud smile grinning back at him. It seems like a lifetime ago, a time when the world made sense.

It’s been four days… four days of radio silence.

Jake’s sent you messages and left voicemails, but it’s like screaming into the void. Or maybe it’s because he only ever finds the words at the bottom of a hundred proof at stupid o’clock when he’s missing you and grieving.

I’m sorry. Please can we talk about this? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you, and I’m sorry for not figuring it out sooner.

Bradley has been absent from Top Gun. Phoenix reluctantly told Jake that Rooster was taking some personal time. No one asked about his busted-up face, so he assumes they’ve all been given a rundown of the events.

He steers clear of the Hard Deck, does his work, eats his meals alone, and returns to his apartment as soon as the work day ends.

He resents the apartment. He only bought it because you convinced him to. You moved to San Diego when he knew he was to be stationed there. There were two apartments available, one across the hall from the other. — “Come on, Jake, it’ll be like our very own version of Friends.” He's never been able to resist your elated smile, and even though he didn’t particularly like the studio layout, he brought it to be close to you.

But now, knowing you're not across the hall, his apartment feels cold and too big.

The soft knock on the door makes him nauseous. He knows it's you. He contemplates not answering. You don’t know that he’s home. There’s no tv or radio playing, so there’s no sound to give him up.

He quietly walks to the door and rests his hand against the wood. You're on the other side; he can feel you. If he closes his eyes, he knows he’ll be able to feel the embrace you won’t give him.

He hasn’t let himself contemplate that the outcome could be positive. He expects the worst; it’s a fantasy to believe anything else.

You knock again, softer than the first. He imagines you are struggling with what's to come, should he let you in, as much as he is. He holds his breath, lungs beginning to burn by the time you knock a third time, gingerly calling out his name.

He unlatches the lock and walks further into the apartment. You take the unlocked door as an invitation to let yourself in.

He crosses the open plan space to the kitchen. Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge, he pops the cap off as he spins to face you. You stand so far back you may as well be on another planet.

He hates himself so much he can barely stomach the feel of his tongue as he licks away the drop of froth from his lips.

There’s no greeting or other pleasantries as you face each other. Your eyes scan the bruises that stain his face before finally dropping your gaze and shuffling your feet as if you feel guilty for the blemishes on his skin.

“How’s your face?”

“Fine,” he says, shrugging, “Bradshaw hits like a girl.”

You shake your head, and he can see how done you are with his shit in the way you don’t even crack a hint of a smile. He strides to the other side of the breakfast bar, closer to you but still an ocean of distance. “Shall we get this over with?” he asks.

You nod and use the motion to find the courage to look at him. “I need you to stay away from me.”

“You came over here to tell me to stay away from you?”

“Jake, please,” your voice quivers, but you contain the emotion. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“So it is hard for you too?”

“Yes!” you snap. “This is hard for me, Jake. It’s fucking devastating. It’s crushing me to do this, and there’s no way to make it easier on either of us. I want to hug you and tell you it’s all going to be okay, but I don’t know that it is. And that physically hurts,” you cry, balled fists digging into your breast bone as if to try dislodging the pain you claim.

“I’m sorry,” he says, walking around the island between you. He’s approaching but nowhere close when you back up a step, anticipating his actions. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Jake,” you sigh. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and I never thought for a second that you did. I just…If you touch me, it means something more to you than it does to me.”

“I’m sorry that I did hurt you,” he explains, and his stomach knots with nausea at the reminder he marred your skin.

There’s a heavy silence, weighted with anxiety and unease as you stifle your tears as best you can. Jake hates that he’s the cause of the wet tracks on your cheeks, and he’s dangerously close to shedding some tears of his own.

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

He cautiously moves closer to you as if you're a skittish animal that he’s afraid of scaring away. You don’t bolt, but he respects your need for space by stopping a few feet away.

He holds your eyes with a firm plea. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.” Your chest inflates to reply, but Jake quickly corrects himself to ensure there are no misunderstandings. “Tell me you’re not in love with me.”

You swipe at the tears on your cheeks and snatch the beer from his hand, downing half the contents, gasping for breath when you hand it back.

The smile tugs on his lips; he can’t fight the glimmer of hope at your lack of denial. “You can’t, can you? I know you feel the same. You’ve just been ignoring it like I was. I was afraid to love you and leave you behind. You deserved better than that. You deserve better than that. You should be kissed and held and cherished every goddamn day, not every couple of months or when deployments allow it. But seeing you with Bradshaw made me see that it would have made it all the sweeter when we were together.”

His name comes out as a choked whisper, and he doesn’t know how to interrupt it. A warning to stop, an affirmation that he’s right? Regardless, he’s not done.

“You said it, you said it to my parents, you said you thought about being Y/N Seresin, and I know that hasn’t just disappeared. You moved to San Diego for me; you came here for me. You still feel it.”

You shake your head, and he’s not sure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him. You speak to your feet when you beg, “Please just leave me alone.”

“Is that Bradshaw talking or you?”

“It’s me.”

“I don’t believe you. You promised me,” he says, tone rife with injustice. “You promised me you and Bradshaw wouldn’t come between us.”

“Don’t put this on Bradley!” you yell, and the fire behind your eyes burns bright. “You promised me, at your sister’s wedding, hell, way back in high school, that you’d never let me drown. Well, here I am, Jake. I’m drowning in the broken promises we both made to each other, and I don’t know which way is up anymore.”

“So we’ll figure it out,” Jake beseeches, reaching for your hands.

“No,” you say firmly, snatching your hands out of his reach. “I'm asking you to leave me alone, stop calling, don’t text, and if you see me in the street, act like you don’t know me.”

“For how long?”

“Jake!” you yell frustratingly. He can see the agony it’s causing you, but he needs to know.

“We live in the same building. How am I supposed to stay away from you?”

Finally, you meet his eyes again, and he wonders if it’s to drive the point home or hurt him the same way he’s hurt you because it feels like a gut punch when you tell him. “I’m moving in with Bradley.”

He tips the bottle to his lips, gulping the remaining liquid to stop himself from breaking down. He did this. He pushed you into Bradley’s arms. He introduced you, gave you his blessing, and his latest actions have sent you scurrying deeper into Bradley’s safety net.

“We’ll stay away from the Hard Deck,” you explain while he’s unable to talk. “Let you have your hunting grounds.”

“So this is it?” he asks, breath catching in his throat. “We’re done? We can’t even be friends. The last twenty years have just been forgotten, gone, just like that?” he snaps his fingers.

“Yes,” you say with a tune of finality, squaring your shoulders.

“Y/N, please,” he begs. “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up. I know how bad I screwed up. I should have told you everything when I was close to you. I shouldn’t have been so pacified being your friend. I should have said it all when I had the chance. I shouldn’t have waited.”

“It doesn’t matter!” you yell, silencing him. “You said it yourself, Jake. It’s all or nothing with me. We had it all. We were friends, and it worked. We can’t go back to that. So please, I’m asking you to stay away from me and out of Bradley’s face. If you care about me the way you say, you’ll do that for me. It’s the least you owe me.”

“If?” he questions, raising his voice as you head toward the door. “If I care about you? Are you questioning that? Is that the problem? You don’t believe me?”

You stop, half out of the door, looking at him over your shoulder. “I believe you. It just doesn’t change anything,” you admit.

It breaks him. He drops to his knees, chin resting on his chest, heaving deep breaths to stop from roaring like a feral animal.

You let yourself into Bradley’s apartment with the key he gave you. Standing in the hallway, you feel the metal grow warm in your palm, and it’s symbolic poetry that the key represents everything Bradley makes you feel; strong, warm, safe, loved, home.

You just hope your absence and lack of communication haven’t caused a rift between you.

You stroll to the kitchen, and Bradley’s sitting at the breakfast bar, hugging a mug of coffee that looks as if it went cold a while ago. “Hey,” he whispers, a catch of emotion in his voice.

“Hey,” you reply, pressing your shoulder into the door frame, uncertainty causing you to hesitate in approaching him.

“You’ve been gone a while,” he notes.

“Needed to clear my head,” you explain, “I’ve been staying with Natasha.”

“She said,” he nods, shrugging lightly. “I wanted to come see you, but I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

You can’t bear the desolation in his eyes, so you look down at the floor. He sounds a little heartbroken, and you know it’s all for you. He was most likely confused, worried, and hurt by your temporary abandonment, but he looks crushed, and you know him well enough to know it’s because he couldn’t comfort you when you needed it most.

“I wouldn't have turned you away if you had.”

“Does that mean I can come over there?” he asks with such hopeful despair it makes you want to cry.

The toe of your sneakers squeaks on the linoleum floor with the speed at which you stand straighter and rush toward him. He twists on the barstool, and you plant yourself between his legs, crushing yourself against his chest hard enough that a whoosh of air escapes him. But he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tightly, arms encasing your hips.

“I missed you,” he says, and you can feel how much he means it when his fingers squeeze your frame.

“I missed you too,” you confess, breathing him in, placing a featherlight kiss against his skin.

He hums low in his chest, and it vibrates through you, spreading warm gratification. This is where you belong. You’re sure of it, but it doesn’t lessen the pain of losing Jake. It somehow makes it worse. When you know your best friend is hurting, the conflict of being happy and content with Rooster makes you nauseous with guilt.

You sigh heavily, and it’s as if you pressed a button inside Bradley. He tightens his grip and whispers, “I love you.”

The pain ebbs, if only momentarily, and you know in time, he will banish it to the deep depths of your mind, and you’ll rarely think of it, maybe someday, even forget.

“I love you too, and I’m sorry for disappearing.”

“Don’t be,” Bradley begins, leaning back to look you in the eyes. “I know this can’t be easy for you. Hell, I’d be concerned if it was. Hey, no,” he coaxes your head back up to meet his eyes with a gentle hold of your chin when you try to shy away. “Don’t do that,” he admonishes with a slight aching frown. “You never have to hide with me.”

You still feel guilty, as if Jake’s actions resulted from yours. Had you led him on somehow, making him think you were more than friends? The thoughts swirl around your mind, a tornado ripping up the foundations of your beliefs, and you worry Bradley thinks the same.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, not for what Jake did and not for taking some time to figure stuff out. I’m just glad you’re home.” A flare of doubt widens his eyes. “You are home, right?”

“Yes, I’m home,” you say and peck his lips quickly. Your kiss seems to have stolen his doubts, and you take on the anxiety as your own, worrying, “if that’s what you want still?”

“Yes, oh god, yes!” he assures. You feel the tension leave his body as he kisses you breathless, excitement replacing the moment’s anxiety. Bradley breaks the kiss but reestablishes the connection, resting his forehead against yours, and you both linger in the moment. “I want you to know I’d understand if you chose to forgive him. I can’t. But I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.” He shrugs and dazzles you with a slight jesting smile. “I mean, I'd like you to make him suffer a little before you forgive him.”

“It’s not what I want,” you say and feel the tears prick your eyes. “I can’t forgive him. I went to see him, to clarify that, and asked him to stay away from us.”

His eyes dart back and forth between yours, and apprehension shimmers in his. Your tears fall, and he interrupts their path with the pad of his thumb swiping over your cheeks. “If that’s what you want, then I respect it, but please,” he implores, “please, don’t do it on my behalf. You’ve been friends forever, and I’d never want to come between you. Even if you change your mind, in a week, a month, a year, whatever, I won’t stand between you two. This isn’t ‘a him or me’ type situation.”

“I know. Kinda wish it was,” you admit, “it might have made it easier.”

“Okay,” Bradley says and looks dead serious as he stares into your eyes, “It’s him or me.” He can't hold the sedate expression for long, and his kind smile breaks the mask. “But only if you choose me.”

“Always,” you confess.

“I can’t tell you how much I needed to hear that. I was damn near terrified this conversation wouldn’t end well for me.” He smiles, so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat, and again you know you’ve made the right choice. “When I’m with you, it feels like the future, and I’m not ready to give that up.”

“You never have to.”

You seal the promise with a kiss. It’s firm but sweet and tender, and it feels as if he’s breathing in your troubles, taking them away with every sweep of his tongue. It lasts so long you feel a little lightheaded, but you don’t want to come up for air. He makes you feel like you're flying, and you’ll continue to soar as long as you have him.

End.

Master Lists: Top Gun Maverick // All The Fandoms

#jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster x you #rooster x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin angst #friends to enemies #broken hearts #angst #fluff #bradley is the best boyfriend

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eternally-yours-24 · 2 years

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Henry awoke with a start, a circle of wetness on the fabric under his cheek. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he sat up, thinking that damp spot was drool, but his eyes felt wet and puffy. He must’ve been crying in his sleep. The idea brought shame, and he wiped the tears away on his flannel sleeve.

Bleary, he looked around his room. Muted sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, his possessions only dark, shadowy silhouettes in the dimness. A few hours must’ve ticked by while he slept…a few hours since his mother locked him up in here.

"I don't want to see you for the rest of the night!" She had screamed at him. "And no dinner!"

He’d begged her to let him out, and when she didn't answer, he’d taken his shoes off and flung them, out of anger and hurt. Both shined loafers, one after the other, had hit the floral wallpaper with a muted thump.

No response.

Struggling not to cry—he’d refused to reward her with tears, not this time—Henry had crawled into bed, curled up, and accidentally fell asleep. Now, he was still tired, and hollow, as if someone had carved all the good places out of him. His cheek was an angry red where his mother had slapped him, and, to his dismay, he needed to use the bathroom. All of this combined into a perfect cocktail of misery.

He tried to push it back, deep down, where he couldn’t reach it. He slowly got out of bed, body still heavy from sleep, crossing the wood floor to the dark-paneled door at the other side of the room. He wrapped his pale fingers around the gilded doorknob, twisting it, but it didn’t budge an inch. God, he hated it when she locked him in here! He pulled at the knob, desperate. He refused to pee out the window again.

Despite his efforts, he only rattled the door in its frame a little. He knocked his already sore hand against the wood, but the sound is frustratingly weak.

"Mother! Let me out!” Henry called, his voice raw from previous yelling, calling this same exact thing, to no avail. His urgency ached. The window option started to sound more tempting, less degrading. "Please!”

The begs stung like acid. He hated her, he hated all of them.

“Anybody!”

His boyish voice echoed feebly through the empty room. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for approaching footsteps, but silence greeted him.

"Let me out!" Henry tried again, his throat raw, but it was no use. It felt like he was the only one in the house.

He sighed in defeat, gritting his teeth against the tears, resting his forehead on the door, breath shuddering. Then…pain turned to defiance, winding up his chest, hot as a furnace, and the steel in him rose up and cried out. He was forgetting something very important. Golden and wonderful, deep in the back of his mind, waiting to be brought to the light…and it would be, without a doubt.

(You're forgetting the power)

Yes, the power. The key, the magic key, not just to unlock this door, but the solution to all of his problems. All he needed to do was turn it and walk out…literally.

He steadied his breath, determined to do what he had to. He took a step away from the door, quickly glancing at ths knob, at the tiny notch of the keyhole below it. Henry closed his eyes. He held the memory of the keyhole in his head, flexing those metal fingers inside his mind, reigning in the power deep in his skull that had awakened since he stood before that tolling grandfather clock. It was a queer sensation—his mind reaching reaching out from its physical bounds, as if the universe was completely at his control. Later, he'd be delighted, yet slightly frightened, at how strong those mental fingers would grow. He ran them along the inner-workings of the lock, nearly able to sense the rust on the metal, filling his mouth with a vague metallic taste, like pennies, tweaking the lock without touching it, feeling it give, and…

Click.

The brittle sound was loud in the silence, seeming to ring in Henry's ears. His eyes opened in surprise, and pushed with his mind, no longer invisible fingers but whole hands. The entire door swung open on its own, as if moved by an intangible wind.

For a moment, all Henry could do was stare at the doorway, leading out into the darkening hallway. His eyes were wide, like two clear blue pools. A delighted thrill pooled in his chest and spread through his whole body, shivers racing down his spine. He considered tearing that damned door right off its hinges, to send it flying down the hall. They'd never lock him in his room again, that was for sure!

His euphoria rose again and he had to stifle a cry of triumph. He darted out through the door—how easy it all was—down the hall, and into the bathroom.

Afterward, he ventured back into the hallway. It's even darker now, almost nighttime. Electric lights shine from downstairs, making the banister cast eerie striped shadows against the opposite wall. The static chatter of the radio breaks the quiet, wafting up from the living room. The radio-voices shifted rapidly—his father changing the channels, without a doubt. Victor often listened to the news before he went to bed.

Henry decided to tread lightly. They didn't need to know he let himself out. Not yet. His sock feet barely made a sound, he could be as quiet as a mouse when he wanted to be. He padded through the house, not encountering anybody, not seen, not heard, like a tiny ghost. Most people would get lost in the Victorian maze that was the Creel house, but not Henry. He knew exactly where he was going.

The attic door stood slightly ajar. When he nudged it open further, the hinges gave a long, strained squeal of protest. Henry glanced over his shoulder, cautious, but nothing stirred. Only the soft howl of the wind outside, the quiet creaks as the house settled, the radio and his father muttering to himself. Henry silently slipped over the threshold and into the darkness beyond, smelling decay, and old wood. The door closed behind him.

He stepped into the wide cavern of the attic. He was comforted by the familiar sights—treasures huddled in the corners, a rickety wheelchair, a piano with a layer of dust coating the keys, a few of them gone, like missing teeth. An old chest of drawers, nibbled by mice. On top of it sat a music box with a tiny porcelain ballerina, her left arm chipped off a long time ago. Sad things, lost things. Perhaps owned by Henry's great-grandfather before he died. Abandoned and left to rot in this musty, dim attic.

None of that bothered Henry at all. He'd begun to feel at home in those sorts of places—the dusty, hidden nooks that people forgot.

In the middle of the room was the little desk he'd made for himself. White wax candles, and glass jars, were placed on each corner, items he'd found among the jumbled attic clutter. Spiders as black as midnight crawled within the jars, Henry's special pets, his dearest friends. Henry sat cross-legged on the floor, gazing at the spiders in silent admiration. He first found their nest under a loose vent in the bathroom, the creatures scuttling in the gauzy strands of their web. He was fascinated ever since, studying them, drawing black charcoal sketches of them in his leather sketchbook. He didn't come up here to draw, though. Not this time.

Henry picked up a small matchbook beside the jars. He smoothly struck a single match and it sparked, blooming into a bright flame. Henry carefully lit each ivory candle, one by one, until the attic glowed dimly, shadows dancing on the rafters, as if they were living things. The house was wide awake tonight; humming with energy, alive with Henry's power.

He allowed his blue eyes to close. Each inhale brought the smoky scent of the candles, burning his nose like perfume, but seeping into his lungs and calming him. He began to slip into the trance state he wanted to achieve. It was like mist rising up as the void engulfed him. Henry saw. Images and voices floating in that fog, millions of memories of those around him—neighbors, his family. The crystal-clear thoughts of the young, the grainy black-and-white thoughts of the old, wavering like a mirage.

Fears, plans for the future, inner-dialogue, fantasies, bad memories, good memories that people held onto like a comfort blanket from childhood.

He saw everything, the ugly and the beautiful of people's minds, a sensation deeper than physical intimacy could ever hope to be.

Finding his mother's mind should've been like searching for a needle in a haystack, but he honed in on her easily. She'd feel only a dull pinprick in her temples when he invaded her head. The pain there and quickly forgotten. Henry ignored the clutter of her inner-voice, as if tuning out an annoying song, and beyond it he saw vague images, ones he recognized. The large porcelain bathtub downstairs, and the checkered blue tile floor. These things were foggy, as if he peered at them through a veil. He was seeing through his mother's eyes. She was about to take a bath. She wore her favorite pink silk robe.

Her head still hurt a little, and Henry sensed her unease. He could sense her lingering contempt for him, at the surface of her mind, as he read through the library of her memories. All the terrible things she'd told him.

"Why can't you behave like a person."

"You should be locked up somewhere."

"You're a disgrace to this family, Henry."

To him this was a bit like shifting through a filing cabinet. Above all, he sensed how much she preferred his sister Alice over him—her shiny blonde hair, rosy smile, pretty blue ribbons. Virginia Creel had always observed Henry's quiet, troubled nature and sad face with disdain.

The perfect daughter and the broken son. Broken—how he hated that word. As if he were some defective piece of clockwork that had to be fixed. A rusted machine.

Though he was unaware of it, his eyes were darting back and forth, like rolling balls, under the fluttering lids. They were partly open, so only the whites of his eyes were visible. His expression was nearly grim, his jaw set in concentration. In the golden light of the candles, his visage looked rather ghastly indeed.

Henry dove deeper into Virginia Creel's mind, into the black pit that held her fears, and here he stayed, pick-pocketing her nightmares, finding the perfect one to use against her.

His mother abhorred spiders. Of course she did.

At this discovery, the fingers of his physical body, sitting in the attic with the candles and the jars, twitched slightly. He wasn't aware of this movement, either. Virginia reached for the silver faucet handles, about to turn on the water.

Perfect.

(Spiders spiders crawling from the black throat of the drain an army of them filling up the tub spiders spiders everywhere all over the tub crawling out of the drain)

Henry projected this illusion into his mother's mind, and the air shattered with a blood-curdling female shriek of terror from below the attic. Any louder and it might've shaken the dust from the rafters.

Henry was smiling, a twisted little grin that barely curled his pink lips.

(That'll teach you to lock me in my room!)

Through the haze, he heard the faint, frantic thumps of her running footsteps. She was screaming for Henry's father. When his parents scurried into the bathroom, they'd find a steady stream of water pouring from the faucet, instead of spiders swarming along the porcelain like a wave of black ink. They wouldn't know he'd caused that vision, but that's all right. The satisfaction he now felt was rewarding enough.

Henry blinked once and fully opened his eyes. The skin of his arms had broken out in goosebumps. The light of the candles are gold orbs floating in the black, full dark now, as his vision crossed and doubled; there was a ringing in his ears as loud as angry bees. He has overworked himself again. This reaction scared him senseless the first time, but knows enough now to simply ride it out.

It was like an entire buzzing beehive in his skull now. A thin river of blood dripped from one nostril, running into his mouth, and he winced at the taste. He went to wipe it away but missed his nose. Black splotches swam in his vision, expanding like flowers in bloom. Henry attempted to stand up, but his legs turned to jelly and he stumbled and fell. He felt the brief shock of pain when he hit the hard floor, but paid no attention; the world had greyed out, the spots in his vision expanding, blotting out the attic. His mind went out with them, flicked off like a switch, and he lay on the floor, passed out. The darkness lasted a moment and an eternity at the same time.

#henry creel #peter ballard #st vecna #001 stranger things #stranger things #stranger things s4 #fanfiction

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j-graysonlibrary · 7 months

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The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two Chapter 28

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 98k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: With another Xiang in the mix, for the first time in history, Pangu decides to reevaluate his methods and his place in the world. Along with taking his little sister Heidi as his last disciple, he also chooses to take the more political path in his efforts to end the discord throughout the land—particularly within Terra. (And gaining favor from the handsome Lord of Ultimos does not hurt.)

Heidi butts heads with everyone in the group, save Raine, and tensions are higher than ever. There are failed love confessions, in-group fighting, and demons from Kira’s past but that all comes to a head when they meet a servant of Shakti who is more than what she seems.

Could it be that the Mistresses of Shadow are more nuanced than previously believed? Or that the strict dichotomy between light and dark are, perhaps, a touch exaggerated? That and more begin to plague Pangu’s mind and his faith wavers…

Full chapter 28 under the cut

Chapter XXVIII:

Restlessness took over quickly and Pangu started to walk around the room, checking all of the furniture for anything useful. He moved the dressers about, looking for weaknesses in the walls and, of course, he kept glancing to the window.

Even if he knew there was some spirit guarding it, the opening looked awfully tempting.

With all of the furniture pulled away from the walls and the rug upturned, Pangu started to walk to the window. He extended his energy to it, finding where the concentration was. It was thick and mostly around the frame but also on the latch.

With a deep breath, Pangu reached his hand out to the groove in the frame to see if he could open it. He kept a barrier around his arm but, the second his fingers grazed the wood, he felt a jolt go through his body. It was not strong enough to knock him out but it was strong enough to send him stumbling back a few paces.

“Ow…” he nursed his hand and glared at the deceptively simple window.

The outline of some creature—some spirit—appeared on the lip of the surface. It was small, maybe a squirrel, but it was hard to tell when not fully formed.

Still, it’s little voice rang out. “You cannot keep trying to defy Tiandi.”

“Trying to open a window is defying Tiandi now?” Pangu glowered and started to flick his wrist, getting rid of the last bit of shocks from his body.

“In a sense,” the spirit came back with more bite to their words. Then they asked, “Why can you not see the merits of this plan?”

Whether it was against Tiandi or not, Pangu crossed his arms and replied, “Because it is a half-hazard, half thought-out, terrible plan. It does not account for individual stances or the long term effects of the countries involved. It is not merely a game where whoever has the most players wins—this is peoples’ lives.”

“If Shakti gains the upper hand, those peoples’ lives will be over anyway,” the spirit argued.

It was just like speaking to Merra so Pangu gave up.

He turned his attention, instead, to the door. Merra had shut it behind her, even if there was another door to get through in order to actually leave. Pangu walked up to it and fiddled with the handle. She had locked it.

With a frown, he kneeled down in front of it and peered through the keyhole. The figure on the other side was blurry but they appeared to be wearing light green robes so he assumed it was still Kubja keeping watch.

Pangu slowly poured air into the keyhole and gradually shifted the weight behind it. The tumblers moved and clicked and he found the correct combination in order to mimic the key. After a final click, the door swung open and Pangu was still on his knees in front of it.

Kubja stood by the other door and did not seem all that surprised to see him. He even chuckled a little. “She said you might try to escape.”

“I was just wondering why she locked this one,” Pangu explained as he stood back up. He was still lightheaded from the fight earlier but he did not believe he was concussed. Even so, he rubbed the back of his head.

“Just an extra precaution.” The old man shrugged.

Pangu sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “So, you were chosen by one of my old mentors?”

“Tiangong.” Kubja nodded.

“…What were you doing before this?” It was a bit of a stiff conversation but it was better than sitting around and staring at the wall.

“I was up in the mountains in northern Feng. I taught martial arts there…mostly to the kids from the village down below but some people traveled to see me as well.” Kubja started to smile as he spoke, “I had trained all of my life to increase my resonance so that I might, one day, be useful to Tiandi. My hopes came true when Tiangong appeared on my mountain.”

Pangu could see why he was chosen. The fighting experience, the blind devotion to Tiandi. This was who his mentors had wanted him to pick in the first place.

“So why did you choose your Terran disciple?” the man asked after a short pause. “Because his resonance was so high on account of being the first Chaaya of this age?”

“No,” Pangu answered immediately with a little more indignation than he intended. He shook his head. “His resonance was, obviously, very high but I also just enjoyed his company. I knew I could train him well and I trusted him to protect me.”

Kubja seemed unwilling to keep talking as if he expected Pangu to either admit to choosing Kira solely based on his status as Chaaya or to admit that he made a terrible mistake and was utterly sorry. He would do neither, of course, since neither was true.

Silence persisted until Kubja was traded out for Bofu. Out of all of Merra’s disciples, Pangu felt he could most easily talk to him. It was probably on account of his age—Pangu assumed he would be less rigid and stern since he was young.

Just how young, he did not yet know so he decided to ask first thing.

“I turned fifteen this spring,” Bofu answered and crossed his arms, leaning against the door. “Why?”

“Curious.” Pangu loosely shrugged his shoulders. “My mentors suggest choosing adults as disciples. Usually.”

“Well I am extraordinary. Tianjun picked me for a reason.”

So much for being easier to talk to, Pangu grumbled internally. He sat on the edge of his bed where he could still see Bofu down the hall. The distance was not too great and his legs were tired anyway.

“Your resonance must be high.”

Bofu nodded boastfully. “The highest in Kyrie, I bet. I was not only the star student in my martial studies but also in art. There is nothing I cannot master.”

Nothing but other elements, he almost said. Instead, he shook his head. “Confidence is a virtue but arrogance is a sin. Be careful when you walk that line.”

The kid scowled. “Shut it, failed Xiang. You are in no position to school me on arrogance—you rebelled against Tiandi. Is there a worse arrogance in the world?”

Possibly not. Pangu pushed the door closed with the air, despite Bofu’s protests. He quieted down quickly on the other side but there was still no peace in Pangu’s mind.

***

A distant rat squealing mixed with the occasional dripping of water from an unknown source were the only sounds in the dungeon. That was until everyone started to awaken in their individual cells, groaning and cursing as awareness set in.

Raine had never been in a jail cell before and the very idea unsettled him. He frowned as he tested the strength of the bars but, of course, they were in an Ultimos prison. It was unlikely to be poorly maintained.

“Ugh, my head,” Heidi was the first to speak.

“Are you the only one awake?” Viren.

“No idea.”

“I am awake,” Raine answered.

“Me too,” Baiya said as well.

“I am coming to,” Oli grumbled.

“Kira?” Raine called out.

“Here,” Kira announced from the cell farthest down the hall. Next to him was Heidi, then Oli. On the opposite side, there was Baiya, Raine, and Viren. The cells were not directly facing one another but they could see each other if they stood right against the bars and leaned to either side.

“We all sound okay…” Viren said. “That is good.”

“Hey!” an unfamiliar voice chimed in. “Pipe down in there!”

Kira rolled his eyes. Unlike the rest of them (except for maybe Baiya) he had been in dungeons before. He had, also, always been able to escape them. But, just as Raine had already observed, there was no way to break out by force.

Their elements were entirely useless, as they found out by trying, one after the other. Heidi tried first, attempting to knock open the cell but she could hardly make a small gust with her hands. She would do better blowing at the door with her mouth.

“Spirits?” Baiya asked.

“Probably,” Kira said with a scowl. He could not shift the earth at all; it was as if he was being pushed down by some unseen force. He had a feeling or, perhaps, a hope that they would only be affected while they were in their cells and, once they got free, they would be able to use their abilities again.

“So, what is going to happen?” Heidi asked after a moment, to anyone willing to answer.

“Merra spoke about some of her plans to me,” Viren replied, “She wants to have a wedding ceremony—for her and Pangu—and essentially make him a figure head for her movement going forward. She probably has him locked in a room about now, sealed off from his power like you all are.”

Baiya looked down at his feet, depressed. This was not the outcome anyone had been hoping for.

“You know,” Kira spoke up, “If you had just swatted those darts away, Heidi…”

“Oh stuff it,” she snapped back but did smile a little. At least things felt normal for a moment.

“I told you lot to be quiet!” The guard walked closer, stopping by Kira’s cell.

“You be quiet,” Baiya grumbled in return.

“We are just anxious, sir,” Raine attempted to smooth things out but went ignored—a phenomena he was quite unused to.

“Well stop yapping—it’s distracting me. Because of you all, I have to miss the wedding of the century.” The guard leaned against the wall and sighed. “Maybe we will be able to hear the bells from down here.”

Kira quirked an eyebrow and stepped closer to the bars of his cell. “Hey,” he kept his voice down, alerting only the guard. When the man’s attention was on him, he smirked and nodded. “How long have you been working down here?”

“Few years, why?” The man was surprisingly forthcoming which just made Kira smile wider.

“Just curious,” he drew out his words, “I have always found this kind of work interesting. So demanding but so little reward, right?”

The guard gave a half nod and a fleeting smirk. “I suppose so.”

Kira ran his fingers along the length of one of the bars. “So unfair.”

Despite his low voice, the others could still hear bits and pieces and Raine and Baiya could both see some of the exchange. Baiya, more clearly, and Raine only when he smashed himself against the bars of his cell.

“What is he doing?” Raine hissed under his breath. Kira had no strong fondness for military men and, any time they had to deal with guards or soldiers, he would usually defer the task to Raine. As he and, well, just about everyone else liked to say, Raine had a natural talent of charming fellow soldiers yet, in this case, his talents, like his resonance, were cut off.

“Shush,” Baiya scolded him—another surprise—and said, “Let him work.”

Unlike Raine, Baiya could see, right away, what Kira was doing and, as much as he hated to admit it, the Terran disciple was brilliant.

***

Meals were to come twice a day and there were three chaperoned bathroom breaks as well. Every few hours, a different disciple would be guarding Pangu.

Ashoka, the Agni disciple, was actually a niece to Agni San Jurou, the lord of Hein who Pangu had met in Phaos. He apologized for not recognizing her but she assured him that they did not meet during his visit. She was the most polite out of the lot, by far, but Pangu hesitated to attribute that to her noble upbringing. He had met plenty of royalty who had loose tongues.

Gongji barely spoke when he was in charge of guarding and it was like pulling teeth to find out anything about him. All he would say was that he was a hermit who lived on an island off the coast of the Enlil capital, Mythos. There were plenty of small islands between the two main ones of Ven but Gongji would not specify. He only stared.

After what must have been a day, Pangu had a decent feel for the routine and also the resonance levels of the disciples themselves. Gongji was the strongest, followed by Bofu, then Ashoka, and Kubja. Bofu, however, could not easily access his element in the building which was a large weakness.

Pangu waited patiently until his turn came at the door and, since they no longer talked, his silence was not unusual. The kid just folded his hands in front of him and bowed his head. His energy was pushed out all around him, almost like an animal that made itself bigger to ward off predators.

In a small way, Pangu felt bad for what he was about to do but he made peace with it and carried on anyway. He moved swiftly, taking hold of Bofu with a firm current of wind and he threw him against the last door, breaking it open.

The little Kyrie disciple squealed and fell to the floor outside so Pangu darted for the exit. He was not so sure how he would go about breaking his disciples free from prison but he charged forward anyway. He was sure he would figure it out as he went.

That was until he hit a wall. Not a physical wall but an invisible one, made of pure energy. It had some elasticity to it so he did not slam his face too terribly but it certainly prevented him from going any further.

In the next second, Pangu was flung back into the room. His back hit the bed before he even fully understood what was happening and a body hovered over him, slender fingers wrapping around his wrists.

“Did you think we would be so foolish as to only leave you with one guard?” Gongji’s mumbled words held no venom in them but his eyes were piercing. A pair of green irises, similar to his own, stared into Pangu without a blink to break the tension.

So there had always been two guards and his plan was flawed from the beginning. Pangu gulped. “I had not felt anything outside the door.”

“Your senses are dulled and they lie to you.” The grip on his wrists tightened. The long, silky strands of Gongji’s hair fell around Pangu’s head, forming a second, darker canopy around him.

He did not know what to say—it was if his words all escaped him. All he could do was stare into the Enlil disciple’s eyes and pray to be let go. Normally, a handsome man of Gongji’s looks holding him to a bed might have flustered Pangu in a fun, exciting way but something about the man caused his blood to turn to ice instead.

“You are quite fair, Shu Pangu Min,” Gongji whispered as he continued to stare, “I see why the Heavenly Princes wish to keep you around. Snuffing out the life of such a fine young man would be a crime.” A smile nudged at the corner or his lips as he continued, “I hope we can spend even more time together after the wedding.”

It was a future Pangu already refused to imagine. If he so much as entertained it, he knew he would be unable to go on but, with Gongji’s words giving him no wiggle room to avoid his fate, his mind conjured a terrible scene. Bound to the room, months down the line—years even—and only visited by the disciples and, occasionally, Merra.

His heart lurched up into his throat when he considered Gongji’s current position as only a taste of what was to come. He replaced the intensity of his stare for his hands and, in that future, there was even less hope for Pangu to escape the whims of the man, whatever they may be.

When Gongji released his hold on him and moved off of the bed, Pangu was beyond grateful. His heart took a moment to start beating again and, once he was alone, he curled into his side and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

Everything began to catch up to him—all of his failures and all of the pain that probably lay ahead. It was useless to do so but, knowing there was nothing else he could do, Pangu was left with no other option but to hold onto himself and cry.

#the xiang chronicles #my novel #my writing

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: Desperate Measures.

Pairing: Yandere!Kaeya/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Delusional Mindsets.

Kaeya was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and couldn’t say he cared for, either. He wasn’t a stranger to romantic inclinations — fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best distasterous at worst, but he didn’t have a problem with that. If anything, Kaeya appreciated it. He’d always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of wine. He wasn’t one to linger. He tried not to overstay his welcome. He’d been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t intend to change.

He didn’t want to change.

And yet, here he was.

Distracted.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent document left on his desk – this one from Jean, a directive for the younger knights or legislation she needed him to review or another vague, important report that he probably would’ve dealt with weeks ago, if he’d been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Kaeya dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar (albeit, rarely used) catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book, instead, your face still buried in your newest novel as you stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock. It was you. He should’ve known it would be. Who else did he deserve?

You, Lisa’s new assistant. You, the latest addition to the Knights of Favonius. You, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation.

You, the new recruit who hadn’t paid him so much as a passing glance since your arrival, much to Kaeya’s frustration.

You didn’t look at him. You rarely ever did, but it hurt more than it usually did, today, as you dropped another form onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting you’d forgotten to offer. “Lisa needs you to sign this,” You started, laying out your priorities clearly, a skill Kaeya was beginning to resent. “It’s just next year’s budget. If you don’t want to read it, I think I’ll be able to look the other way.”

He glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, and took your suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with you in the room. Especially with your unoccupied hand resting on his desk, your fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he’d be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking you, for a moment, giving you an order and hoping you'd absent-mindedly obey. He thought about touching you, or running his fingers through your hair, or pulling you into his lap and mumbling sweet-nothings into your ear until someone else dragged you away.

He thought about a lot of things. Then, he said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

“Do I seem that selfish to you?” You were selfish. You had to be selfish. If you weren’t, then surely you would’ve been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago. “I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favor from you.”

“I’m sure we could work something more immediate out,” He went on, but you were already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Kaeya could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch your wrist, to go after you, to put himself between you and the only exit and refuse to move until you looked at him, but he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense. He couldn’t be impulsive. He couldn’t make rash decisions. He wasn’t prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now.

Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he wasn’t itching to burn every book you’d touched. “I know you don’t have anything better to--”

“Another night, Captain.”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving Kaeya’s muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

Kaeya was a man, desperate.

Like a starving dog. Like a traveler who hadn’t seen water in thirty days. Like a distraught, distressed, disturbed knight, wandering through a maze of a library, cursing the existence of every shelf that separated him from you. He knew where you'd be. You were a creature of habit, and he’d already had more than enough time to memorize your routine. He’d had enough time to memorize everything about you, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It was a testament to his devotion, to how much time he’d spent trying and failing to win your favor.

It was evidence of how pathetic he’d gotten, over the course of his one-sided pursuit.

You were in your usual spot – tucked into the far corner of the library, perched on the edge of a windowsill, your attention monopolized by the tattered scroll spread across your lap. You were still pouring over it by the time he reached you, slumping against the nearest wall, taking in how brilliantly the muted sunlight looked as it danced across your skin. He didn’t try to hide the way he stared, anymore. He was long past worrying that you’d care enough to notice. Your hair was unkempt, proof that’d you slept in the archives again, if you’d slept at all. Your lips were bleeding, too, the lower one chewed raw and split down the middle, but it might’ve been stranger if they weren’t. It must’ve been a nervous tick, but Kaeya found it cute. Kaeya found it endearing. Kaeya found everything about you endearing, and to the archons, he wanted to see those lips wrapped around his co--

And he hated it. He found everything about you endearing, and he hated it. That was all.

He sighed, the sound airy, exhausted. You didn’t look up, but that was fine. It would’ve only hurt him further if someone as simple as that drew out your concern. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a hum, soft and contemplative. A rather generous response, by your standards. “I’ve noticed.”

“You’re all I think about.” It was an awkward confession, one he’d already used a hundred different times. He didn’t care. He’d use it a hundred more, if he had to. “I’m a wreck. I can barely remember my own name, and some days I can’t even do that. I can’t fight, I can’t eat, I can hardly breathe. Every morning, I wonder what it would be like to wake up to your smile, and every night, I stare at my ceiling and loath myself because I’m not holding you in my arms. For fuck’s sake, just yesterday, I almost kissed Albedo because the chemicals he was working with reminded me of the way your favorite kind of flower smells, and I’m just so fucking desperate, I convinced myself that was the closest I’d ever come to kissing you.”

He was rambling, by the end, panting, yelling, but you only blinked when he was done, once, then twice. Your dull nails bit into the edges of your scroll, but you didn’t seem to mind, nor did you move to roll it up as you finally turned to face him, the confusion written clearly across your expression. “You kissed Albedo?”

“You don’t get it,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. “You don’t fucking get it.”

“I think I do,” You admitted, more earnestly. Your gaze dropped back to the ground, and instantly, Kaeya deflated. “I just… I just don’t think it’d work out, if I’m being honest. I’m still new. I still have to give everyone else a reason to trust me, and I don’t think it’s in my best interest to start a relationship with one of my superiors so early on.” You paused, laughing to yourself, and something in Kaeya’s chest tightened. It was the happiest he’d been since he met you, and he still felt like you’d pushed a sword through his heart and twisted. “But, you don’t really want a relationship, do you? You’re just bored, and you need something to fixate on. I’m the most available option, so...” You trailed off, finishing your sentence with a vague, stilted sweeping gesture. “It’ll be easier for both of us, this way. I like you, Captain, but I don’t like you enough to put myself through that.”

It was all he could do to remember how to open his mouth. Once he did, the words came stumbling out on their own.

“Of course.”

Kaeya was a man, determined.

Determined might’ve been the wrong word for it. Too soft, too suggestive, the impression too positive and the meaning too vague. ‘Depraved’ might’ve suited him better, but that was too harsh, too primitive, and he’d like to think he’d been as gentle as anyone could expect him to be, given your stubbornness. He’d tried to be gentle. He’d wanted to be gentle. If he was going to do this to you, he could at least do it gently. You deserved that much, at least.

Or, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t deserve any of this.

He couldn’t really make up his mind, about that.

“Lisa?”

And he was gentle, more so than he had to be. Sure, you were on the floor, bare stone already beginning to chafe at your skin, but the shackles around your wrists were padded, and he’d given you enough slack to sit down, to ball yourself up, to act like it’d never crossed your mind that he’d resort to something so… easily misinterpreted. The blindfold was, similarly, an act of mercy. You’d panic if you woke up like this, chained to a wall in someone else’s cellar, and Kaeya didn’t want that. You needed time, and he could give you that. He would give you that. Even if it pained him to stay at arm’s length.

“Amber?”

He wanted to touch you. It’d be easy, now, easier than it’d ever been before. You wouldn’t be able to push him away, and even if you tried to, he could always overpower you. Take you by the neck, pin you against the floor, leave you shaking and trembling and begging, pleading with a captor you couldn’t see. He’d find a way to make it up to you, later on. He’d find a way to lie, to smile, to make it better, even if he’d failed to time and time again, out there. But, this would be different. You wouldn’t be able to cling to your excuses, and he’d be able to show you how much he cared, how much he wanted this, how much he loved you. This would be better.

“Kaeya?”

See? You were already coming around.

Your voice was already soft, hesitant, a sliver of a whisper that was constantly on the verge of dying out completely. You were trying not to make noise, trying not to seem as terrified as you really were, but he could hear the way your breath hitched as he took a step forward, your restraints rattling as you curled into yourself. You couldn’t hide from him, but you wanted to. That much was obvious. You didn’t want this.

But, he did. More than you could ever want to run away from it.

He wanted to touch you, but he held himself back. Instead, he only kneeled in front of you, letting himself linger for a moment before he spoke. “I’m here, love.”

“Where are we?” You were afraid, too scared to put the pieces together. Not while you could still hope there was another explanation. Not while you could still deny the apparent. “My head hurts, and I can’t--”

“I know, and I’ll make it up to you.” This time, he let himself reach out, cupping your cheek and chuckling as you tried to shy away. The two of you could work on that, later on. He could live with the guilt if he let himself enjoy it, now. “Just give me a moment, alright? Just a second, then I’ll take care of you.”

You opened your mouth, then you closed it again. Kaeya wondered if you’d be bold enough to refuse if he did try to kiss you, or hold you, or go further than the fleeting touches he’d swore would keep him satisfied, at first, at least. He wondered if he’d care, when you did. “Are… are you going to hurt me?”

He wanted to reassure you. He wanted to promise he’d be patient, that he’d understand if you lashed out, that violence wasn’t an option he was willing to consider, but he couldn’t, like this, could he? He didn’t want to hurt you, but he’d never wanted to kidnap you, either, not until you made it obvious he didn’t have another choice. He didn’t want to stoop so low, he didn’t want you to hate him, but…

But, he was lying again, wasn’t he?

To tell the truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely cared whether or not you loved him back.

You stifled a scream as his hand dropped to your jaw, his grip tightening as he jerked you forward, just close enough to wrap his arm around your waist, to bury his face in the side of your neck, to get a taste of what you’d deprived him of. It wasn’t enough, he doubted it’d ever be enough, but he had you. He had you, he was close to you, and he had you. That had to be enough, for now.

“We’ll see.”

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bnha smut #bakugou smut #mha smut

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queenbeean · 2 years

Text

the king’s whore / bucky barnes

part four

summary: in which king james lets his guard down

pairing: royalty au; king!bucky barnes x whore!f!reader

warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; angst, sexual harassment(?), uncomfortable topics, nudity, fingering and female receiving oral, smidge of fluff

disclaimers: my smut writing abilities are terrible so i apologize in advance

taglist: @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @tanyaherondale @oceanmermaidwitch @dontbescaredtosingalong

part three

True to his word, that same evening, the castle’s librarian arrived to your door and handed Claire a book. After she gave it to you, you read the title and opened it, noticing that there was a piece of paper sticking out.

‘This book is part of a trilogy. If you like it, I will make sure you have the other two on your bookcase. —J’

You found yourself smiling at the note, your sight focusing on the way he signed it. It felt intimate, especially coming from a King. It meant he wrote it. He personally chose the book, which he had told you he would, but he went out of his way to write you a note and sign it. You knew it was foolish to feel this way but you decided to revel in this feeling now and move on.

But it was cut short when the main doors in your room opened without knocking first. Claire took the book from your hands and put it inside the opening from her apron. You didn’t question her then but made a note of asking later. Now your eyes were shifted back at the intruder and you felt all the warmth from a few seconds ago dissipate. The guard from the other night came in like he owned your room and smirked. Ignoring both you and Claire, he made room for the artist to come inside with the painting of you and your blood boiled. You hated that he probably looked at your almost naked body and that he was standing in front of the place it was being hanged, not once taking his eyes off it.

“Don’t you think her tits are bigger than that?” The guard asked, looking briefly at the artist, still ignoring you but smirking at the way he talked so bluntly about your body.

The artist looked at him with a confused expression and stuttered. “N-no, I do not think so.” He seemed like he wanted to get away from the situation as fast as possible.

“Think again,” The guard said and looked at you, well, looked at your body. “If you need to alter something, she’s available right now. She can take her clothes off and you can compare.” He said, taking a step towards you and you recoiled, your arms crossing over your chest.

“Rumlow! The artist has a lesson in ten minutes.” Another guard appeared by the door, calling for the man that had you wished would disappear. “Come on, man.”

“Saved by the bell.” Rumlow whispered in your direction as he walked back to the door. If the other two men heard, they acted like they didn’t.

“Excuse me, ladies.” The artist bowed slightly and left.

“They ain’t ladies. A whore and a whore’s maid.” Rumlow snickered as he went.

Claire walked to the door and closed it. Then she started looking for something in the cupboards and when she found it, she walked back to you.

“What a-are those?” You wondered, your tone stuttering and your body shaking slightly again.

“Door stoppers.” She showed you triangle shaped chunk of wood. “All the maids and cleaning ladies got these done by the royal carpenters. In secret of course. We have them in each room, hidden.” Claire said in a rush, equally as shaken as you were. “There was an incident. A long time ago but we got them just in case.”

“I’m going to throw up.” You said, believing and at the same time not believing what you were hearing. It didn’t surprise you though. There were many dirty secrets in every kingdom. “Do you have something to defend yourself with you? You should carry a blade or something.” You asked, worried about her coming and going.

Claire smiled warmly and pulled her long skirt up to her mid thigh. “I want to see somebody try.” She smirked as she showed off the knife strapped discreetly on her skin.

“Do not say that, Claire.” You gasped. “But I am relieved.”

Claire dropped the skirt and then fished for your book in her pocket. “You do not want people wondering why you are smiling at a book, believe me.” She said and took the wooden chunks to your room. You followed her and saw her hide them underneath the table with a flower arrangement next to the door. “If I were you, I would hide the note too.”

•

“James! Oh, God…” You moaned loudly, glad the the water from the shower muffled your voice. It was like you lost control over your body the moment you felt King James’ mouth teasing your clit and that had been a few minutes prior. He was playing with you, edging you, finding about every single thing that made you feel good. Learning your body as if he was the one that needed to please.

If it weren’t for the built in seat on the shower stall, you would have fallen already. But the King made you sit and quickly move one of your legs over his shoulder, your hands itching to push his head closer to where you needed him but knowing you would never do that.

His metal fingers pumping in and out of you in just the perfect speed, not too slow and not too fast. Just enough to keep your body writhing, his other arm holding your hips down. You were ready to pass out even though he wasn’t giving you everything he had. You knew you’d be passed out if he did but you were pretty close to it. With the way his tongue would lick up and down, from left to right and then a thousand more combinations. All of those leaving you gasping and at some point trying to pull away but he looked up, the blue of his eyes only a ring now. “Stay still, doll or I will not let you come.” He said and you almost came right there. He had been calling you doll for the past three weeks, almost right after he sent you the first book. You actually came when he called you that the first time. And you knew he was still gloating about that.

“James, I— please, please.” You cried, not knowing anymore what to do to hold onto that sensation of bursting.

“Please, what?” He asked, his almost there beard wet with your nectar. “What exactly do you want?”

“I—” You couldn’t finish your sentence when James curled his fingers inside you the right way and you just exploded. But you didn’t come. It felt like you had peed yourself but by the look on his face, he knew exactly what happened. And he was damn proud of himself.

“You what, doll? Made a mess on my hand?” He smirked, his fingers making squelching noises as he never stopped fucking you with his fingers.

“I cannot, please, I will—”

“Yes, you can and yes, you will.” He told you, a wicked smile on his face and you felt something but you shook your head. His speed increased and you shut your eyes, feeling that buildup now stronger than when you squirted. And then you fell apart. Pleasure spread through your body like lightning and you felt like you were going to pass out for real. The only thing preventing that was the soft licks King James was giving you as he helped you come down from your orgasm. You felt his eyes on you but you felt too weak to open yours. “Doll?” His tone was now slightly worried and you made a ‘mhm’ sound, too spent to answer him properly. “Are you okay?” He asked and moved around until he was sitting next to you, shutting the water off before moving you to his lap.

Lazily, your eyes opened and were greeted by beautiful blue orbs, deep with concern and a frown on his eyebrows. “I apologize, James. I am fine.” You tried moving and braved yourself for what he decided to have you do next but he hugged you tighter to him.

“Five minutes, then shower, then bed.” He said and you saw him close his eyes.

You felt bad, you were supposed to be at his beck and call but every time he comes to you, it’s like he wants to pleasure you. He always makes sure you come, that you are satisfied.

“What about you? I can suck your cock.” You offered.

“As much as I love your mouth on me, you are on the brink of passing out.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulders, letting yourself relax against his body that was still hugging you to him, his metal fingers running up and down the warm and still wet skin on your arm. It was a surprise to see that the metal part wasn’t only his hand but it ran all the way to his shoulder. It was a rare thing to see him exposed like he was at the moment but now you could see his scars from up close. Without thinking about it, you delicately brushed your fingertip over one of his scars.

King James froze but didn’t stop you or moved away from your touch. Yet you didn’t look back at him. You wanted to ask him what happened to him but he had a reason to always be covered in that area. You knew he wasn’t comfortable with it and you had no right to ask about it so you continued your path and skimmed the few water droplets from his pec. He relaxed momentarily and nuzzled his face on your hair.

“It is getting cold. We should finish our shower.” He mumbled from the top of your head and then leaned back a little to see your sleepy face.

“I like your middle name, Buchanan.” You said and his eyes crinkled and he smiled but you could tell that he was trying to play off the compliment. “Suits you. James Buchanan… Buck… Bucky for short.” You played with the idea and he wasn’t going to tell you but he loved the idea of the nickname Bucky coming out of you.

“Bucky…” He tested the name. “Not bad, doll.”

•

Bucky saw you walking with Claire outside on the gardens. He had just arrived from a long meeting with Steve from Rogers Lands, his old comrade in the war and the closest thing he had to a friend, the only person who knew him.

But speaking of someone knowing him…

He dropped his stupid King cape and set down the heavy crown on his desk, papers crinkling at the disturbance from his carelessness. He needed your body but he was also too tired. He just wanted to lay down next to you— No, he thought. He couldn’t care for someone more than he did for all of his people. And he couldn’t allow himself to feel something more for you. Because you didn’t think of him as anything other than your King. For God’s sake, your entire life was spent training to be the perfect whore for him. It was your job to make him feel good, to say what he wanted to hear, to do what he wanted you to do, to act in a way that it was for his own selfishness. Because it wasn’t about need, it was about what he wanted. Being King was a huge responsibility. Making decisions that would affect everybody around him even if he disagreed. The law about having a whore was exclusively made to help him cope, to let his stress out and motivate him to keep going, so he didn’t go crazy with everything his title entailed.

But seeing you crouch in order to pet a stray cat did something to his heart that was very unfamiliar to him. And what was worse, he didn’t entirely hate the feeling. But nothing could happen. Yes, he could talk to you about books, about space, about his day but he needed to take care of the greater good. And you would never feel anything else for him. It was like when you saw his metal arm for the first time. Your pretty face was curious and confused but you knew your place. He knew you wanted to ask him about it but you didn’t because you weren’t here to care for him, you were here to fulfill a job.

Still his mind wouldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to believe you petting a cat was all you, not your training. And that made it harder but at least you understood him, training or not. You didn’t pretend to care about his interests, he was sure that was both sides of you. So when one of the guards screamed at the cat to get away and you almost fell, startled, he got an idea. Because he knew what it was like to be lonely. What it was like to not knowing whether to trust the people around you. And he didn’t want you to feel what he had felt so many years. Loneliness. That’s what he still felt and that’s what he knew you felt. The guard ignoring you because you were a whore. The other women walking next to you, smiling to your face and then gossiping as soon as you were left behind. Maybe he couldn’t act on whatever he was feeling but he was going to help you because you didn’t ask for this life. Just like he didn’t ask for his.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #mine

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curmudggeon · 3 years

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Southern Hope (Arthur Morgan x Female Reader)

❝ If by any chance...in another lifetime, we happen to see each other again, I'll come and find you. And I'll make you fall in love with me, over and over again ❞

In which romance novelist, Mary-Beth under the pen name of Leslie Dupont, writes a coming of age love story based on her favourite gang members in the past, You and Arthur.

Trigger Warnings; Violence | Blood | Angst | Sexual Intentions

A/N: This is a project I've been working on for quite a while. I had the idea in mind when I had the chance to experience the musical composition of Aaron Copland's quintessential American Dream, 'Appalachian Spring' -one of my favourite pieces with such a beautiful storyline. And I wanted to retell it in the form of a book that is available on my Wattpad (ongoing) for you to enjoy from Mary-Beth's POV. I hope you show love to this book as much as I loved writing it. Have a sneak peek at the prologue!

Read on Wattpad here for more chapters to come!

PROLOGUE

Leslie Dupont; Mary-Beth Gaskill

Lemoyne, Saint Denis

November 1907

“Mademoiselle Dupont, we expect your next manuscript to be submitted by next summer. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.”

Here we go again

Mary-Beth sighed as her editor, Céline Laurent, had warned her once more for not meeting the deadline to her books. She was in a crucial position in her life. After her debut as a romance novelist, The Lady of The Manor was an instant best-seller across the country. It was the kind of thing she specializes in, silly ol’ romances.

“I promise you, I’ll get it done by then.” Or maybe, at least not for now. She shouldn't have promised something she couldn’t keep, especially in the meantime.

“I’ll take your word for that, if you don’t meet the deadline by then. Y’know what will happen to your contract, Leslie.” Céline stood at the door frame of Mary-Beth’s office with hands on her hips and raised eyebrows.

She knew exactly what she had meant. In fact, she knew the consequences on the back of her head when she first signed that contract with her publishing company. Two more books were requested of her. Or else she would be evicted of her apartment and be forced to live along the streets of Saint Denis for the rest of her life. A life of luxury slipping between her fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary-Beth disclaimed, the moment her editor slammed the door as she left her office. Heaving yet another exaggerated sigh, she crosses her arms on the grand rosewood desk, flopping her head on top of it. “What am I going to do now…” She murmured into the crevice of her arms.

Mary-Beth was in the middle of a major writer’s block for a few months now. She lost sight of that imaginative space of hers, consisting of the most swoon-worthy romances to the picture-perfect life she portrayed through her characters. A part of Mary-Beth that her readers absolutely adored. But, her head was now a clouded space of everlasting void. It was difficult for Mary-Beth to come into terms of writing again, but she couldn’t quite identify what had put her into this position.

Once she gathered the courage to write again, it all came crashing down like violent tidal waves when she came face to the daunting blank page of nothingness —almost drowning her.

It was as simple as that. Come to work, have a cup of tea, sit down, and a blank page.

Every. Damn. Time.

Maybe it was because she was already nearing her mid-thirties, and she hasn’t found someone to sweep her off her feet. Maybe it was when she first held Tilly’s baby that she found the need to be a mother someday. Maybe it was the overwhelming response towards her writing, she felt the need to hide away into an abyss. Or maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about the time she had come across John again after so many years that the memories just come flooding back.

Or maybe, just, maybe. It was because it’s November.

The most dreaded time of the year. November, in which the seemingly fearsome Van der Linde gang had officially broken up. Guns were fired, ties were broken and deaths were grieved. An unforgettable, painful memory.

She would often think about campfire songs, the girls and, Miss Grimshaw’s constant nagging about undone chores. Oh, how best of friends Céline and Miss Grimshaw would have been if she had heard Mary-Beth had been slacking again. It was her coping mechanism, think more about the good times to get rid of the bad ones.

Mary-Beth remembered when she took in her hands at being a matchmaker. Prancing around the camp, she would eye her two best contenders. You and Arthur.

She knew from the start when you had laid your eyes on each other for the first time, she could see through the inexplicable connection in between. You were both extremely awkward when it came to small-talk or addressing each other as you walked by across camp. However, it never stopped Arthur to come to camp as soon as he could just so he could see you, even just for a second.

The conversation would often start with Arthur while on his way to Dutch’s tent,

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yea sure…”

—and that would be it.

At the same time, every single day, at the course of sunset.

You poor socially inept fools.

Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen would always see the interaction happen in the middle of their afternoon chores. Grinning from ear to ear. They would elbow each other whenever there was something different about the correspondence.

One time, you would walk past him, suddenly kissing him on the cheek and scurrying away.

Arthur would stop in his tracks, stunned, with a hand-over where your kiss tingled on his skin. Then he would look back at you as you laid down, smiling to yourself against a tree with a book in your hands. And Dutch would yell his name, knocking him out of his stupor before he noticed he was staring for a little too long.

The girls would start applauding for your heroic performance, it was like a groundbreaking plot twist Mary-Beth couldn’t wait to write about when the idea came into mind.

The both of you were like a walking excruciating slow, slow-burn romance novel. That was when Mary-Beth would cue in her entrance as matchmaker as soon as the interaction slowly died down. Your story had to have a happily ever after in her book.

She would pester you and Arthur separately, mentioning each other’s names and slipping in hints of romantic intentions from the other side so the both of you can address whatever this relationship was.

Mary-Beth knew it was a mission accomplished the night Sean was rescued back to Horseshoe Overlook. When she stood aside of the camp watching Dutch and Molly ballroom dancing into the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of you and Arthur behind them. Running into the woods, hand in hand, giggling to yourselves like prepubescent teenagers.

After that night, it was a considered job well done when your chance encounters slowly turned into planned ones. He would take you on dates, and you would show him affection like nobody’s business. A perfect couple, your American dream.

Until it became a nightmare.

And Arthur had passed,

your Arthur.

Ever since then, Mary-Beth wondered what had happened to you. Were you still alive after all these years? She couldn’t imagine how hard you must be coping with the news. Or what if you didn’t know at all? Even when she asked John and Tilly, they said you disappeared that night he passed.

Not even a single trace. Where were you?

Mary-Beth dismissed the thought out of her head, lifting her head away from the desk. She had to let go of these memories for her own well-being. For what seemed like yesterday were merely years ago. But it couldn’t have hurt to reminisce just a bit, for old times sake.

The story of You and Arthur was unwritten, left to collect dust from the lack of content. The perfect example of a sepia-tinted photograph, forgotten. Mary-Beth believed the both of you deserved something much more than a devastating ending. She wasn’t as ruthless as the other authors she had met that held an iron fist when killing off their characters. Mary-Beth wasn’t like that.

And the idea came to mind. She was a romance novelist for a reason; to fulfil all the possibilities for the unconditional love you shared.

And so Mary-Beth picked up her beautiful fountain pen,

She began to write on the great desk in her quiet room.

To write the most beautiful story of the century,

You and Arthur. Arthur and you.

A perfect couple. The American Dream.

A life that could have been so much more,

A life to remember…

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 3 years

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Lost & Found (Yunho/Pirate au!/smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

Tag list: @wooyoungiesdaisy @brrrrpolar @224-12 @pancakes-for-teddy @wannatinyus @amultislifeforme

Pirate!Yunho + fem!pirate! reader

Story Tags: Pirate au! Friends to lovers au! kidnapping, Aged up Ateez (slightly other members) cursing, fighting, explosions, directed by michael bay, smut, kinda angsty, mentions of a brothel, explicit language

Smut Tags: Fondling, male oral receiving, female oral receiving, fingering, slightly dom! Yunho (kinda), unprotected sex 👉👈

Word count: 10699 (she’s very long)

A/N: I think we know by now that I have a too much gene and can’t write short stories.

“Get back here!” His voice rang from behind you as you ran. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dodged the working crew members. The sound of his boots on the wood close behind you. “Watch out.” One of the crew members grumbled as you zoomed past him, barely missing him.

You couldn’t help but laugh and look behind you, Yunho hot on your tail. Only for your foot to get caught on some rope and for you to go flying into the wooden deck. “I got you now!” He yelled, staddling your waist as you laid on the floor. He was laughing and you were too. It was such a relief to have someone like him to hang out with.

Yunho’s fingers tickled over your sides and you squirmed around trying to avoid them before letting out a deep sigh. “Fine. I surrender.” You said, raising your hands and revealing what he was chasing you for in the first place.

“The ship would be in shambles if you two were left in charge.” Your father’s voice boomed from the deck behind you both. “She stole my apple.” Yunho explained, taking the fruit from your hands and taking a bite. “Sorry captain, for the ruckus.” Yunho said, still sitting on you. Kicking your legs and squirming, you tried to push him off of you but to no avail.

Yunho enjoyed it too much really. He thought you were ridiculously cute and just loved teasing you so much. He was the second youngest on the ship, it was just nice to have you there too.

“Big arse, get off of me.” You stuttered, shoving the older male slightly. You both got up off the floor of the deck and your father laughed at how disheveled you looked. Yunho blinked innocently, munching on his apple as your father dusted you off.

“Sometimes you two remind me of your mother and I when we first met.” Your father said and pinched your cheeks. “All this teasing just because you like eachother. So funny.” Your father said softly and both of your eyes went wide. “I don’t like him!” You said and pouted, looking at Yunho with disgust all to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

“I don’t like her either.” Yunho said with a small laugh, looking at your face. He was head over heels for you, but judging by your face you really didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever you say.... Yunho when you’re done with that apple Seonghwa could use some help below deck.” Your father said and Yunho nodded. “Yes, captain.” He nodded and left the deck. You watched him walk away and crossed your arms over your chest.

You did like him, you liked him alot. Ever since your father had brought him on board of the “Desire” you had been inseperable. He was your best friend and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you might have even loved him.

“One day, you two will look back on this and say: He was right.” Your father said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe, but not right now.” You said and turned to him.

Your father may have been a pirate, but he never left you wanting for a thing. He taught you how to read, write, how to take care of yourself and protect yourself. Regardless of the situation, your father did his best with what the cards had dealt him.

You walked below deck as the night fell, seeing Seonghwa and Yunho pushing crates around and stacking them. “I’ll help from here, Seonghwa. You go grab some dinner.” You said and the older male smiled at you. “Alright.”

Talking to your father made you realise how silly you both were being. You liked him and you thought he might like you too. Even if he didn’t, things really couldn’t get awkward between you two. Where was he going to go to avoid you? You were in the middle of the ocean.

“Why are you helping me?” Yunho asked, raising his eyebrow. “Because I can. Don’t act like I do nothing around here.” You said and helped him push a crate into a corner. “No you do a lot. But I thought you didn’t like me?” He teased, leaning against a wall and looking at you. Perching yourself on top of the crate, you kicked out your legs back and forth. You were nervous.

“You know that’s not true.” You said softly and Yunho perked up. Was this happening?

“You know I like you. You know I like you a lot.” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt. The atmosphere in the room was warm, maybe because the only light in the room came from a small oil lamp hanging above your heads. Finally looking up, you could see Yunho’s eyes sparkling.

“I like you too. I like you a lot.” He said softly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He had never done this before. Coming closer to you, Yunho grabbed one of your hands. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel his ears burning red.

You looked at eachother, just simply watched eachother. Taking in eachother’s features mainly because you were both too painfully awkward to say something. It was just you two and the sound of the waves outside.

Until it wasn’t. The sounds of gunshots and canons quickly filled the air and you and Yunho let go of eachother. “What was that?” You asked, pushing off of the crate and heading towards the stairs. “I have no idea.” The male said, grabbing your hand and following you out onto the deck.

There was a ship next the “Desire” and planks connecting the two. The crew was fighting the intruders, the sound of guns, canons and swords filling the air. You could see your father fighting and Yunho instinctively pulled you back slightly.

You both drew your swords, not knowing what to do but knowing that just standing there was more dangerous.

Arms wrapped around your waist and knocked your sword out of your hand. Panic swallowed up your body and you started to kick, scream and shake at the same time. The culprit’s face was covered, all of their faces were covered. The enemy wasn’t identifiable, not even by the black sails on their ship.

Yunho turned to see you being pulled away, and started panicking himself. “Y/N!” He yelled, garnering your father’s attention from the other side of the deck. Yunho ran pushing people out of the way as you continued to fight your agressor. You didn’t realise it until it was too late but the man was dragging you to the plank connecting the ships.

“YUNHO!” You screamed, still trying to reach out to him or to anyone that could help you. You weren’t winning, he was a lot stronger than you. Yunho was so close, your outstretched hand being centimeters away from his. Your father was close behind

However your heart stopped, watching another masked figure grab Yunho and drive his sword into his stomach. You couldn’t remember if you screamed, you couldn’t remember if you cried out or if your body gave out watching him fall to the deck practically lifeless.

But before you knew it, you were on their ship and the planks had fallen into the ocean and disconnecting the two ships. Thrown to the floor of the deck. You were numb, speechless, scared and heartbroken. You had been stripped of everything you knew in a matter of minutes.

- 5 years later-

Surely you were going to die. This was it, you were sure of it. You could practically feel the ship breaking apart around you. But you weren’t scared, you had been living a life of misery and if it was your time to go, you were ready.

Or so you thought, but the second a canonball tore through the wood a few feet from where you were standing, your fight or flight senses took over. You weren’t even thinking as you ran onto the deck, your senses being filled with yells, screams, the waves and the canons. Your captors were incredibly preoccupied, not noticing your scrambling onto the deck in hopes of finding a way to survive this.

Captain Richards was warned by his crew that these waters were dangerous, ships appearing and disappearing in the middle of the night all supposedly looking for the same thing. Utopia.

But he disregarded them, claiming ‘he knew what he was doing’ and that ‘if they disagreed so much, going overboard was their other option’ you only heard about the journey ahead because of his crewmates being below deck and bickering over it. You were wishing the evil Captain would have had enough sense to listen to his crew, now you might actually die because of it.

Splinters were flying around you as you tried finding a way out, but you were in the middle of the ocean and being shot at. Your choices were slim and you knew this was probably the end.

You paused for a moment, feeling the deck underneath you starting to rip apart. Coupled with the screams of crew mates, you felt yourself start to fall and yet all you could think about was your father, Yunho and the crew that was your family.

Oh Yunho, sweet, sweet Yunho. If everything would’ve stayed the same, that could’ve become something. But you were almost 100% sure he was dead and the thought that you would see him soon after you passed comforted you as you hit the cold, black water.

“Y/N? Y/N.” His voice filled your ears and boy, did you miss that voice. “Yunho?” You could hear him, but you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see anything except for black and you couldn’t feel anything except for the water in your lungs. “Yunho?” You called out again, feeling an intense pressure on your chest. “Yunho?!” You were yelling but you weren’t sure if any sound was coming out.

Were you alive? You absolutely could not tell. You only felt panic as you felt yourself the pressure in your chest becoming unbarable and your mind slowly starting to shut down.

Until it felt like a thousand point weight was lifted off of you, a loud gasp coming from your lungs as you coughed out water onto a wooden deck... a wooden deck?

Your vision was blurry, the edges of your sight laced with black as you turned your head slowly. It felt like your body weighed a ton, your actions being in slow motion as you held onto the deck for dear life. Blinking furiously and trying to get a grip on the fact that you were as a matter of fact, not dead.

You finally lifted your head, trying to gather your surroundings only to be greeted by sparkling eyes. Horribly familiar, horribly beautiful eyes that surely meant you were dead. “Yunho?” Your voice was weak before your arms gave out and your eyes shut once more. You were definitely dead, there was no other explanation.

Yunho stared at your lifeless body on the deck, completely frozen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, he almost forgot to breathe. He only remembered to breathe whenever he watched you cough up a large amount of seawater, thanks to Seonghwa’s help. Yunho was too shocked to do anything, then the shock turned to pure fear that you might have been dead.

“Yunho?” Your voice made him shudder as he looked at you, eyes locking for a moment. You looked dazed and confused, hair sticking to your face and your clothes soaking wet. You looked so scared and it broke his heart. But then you collapsed again, any strength that you had managed to gather disappearing.

“Y/N’s body temperature is really low.” Seonghwa commented, grabbing your limp hand to feel your temperature. It took Yunho a moment to shake everything off and he looked at around to his crew. “Salvage anything possibly of use from the water, Mingi once that’s done change course and get us out of these waters. I don’t trust them.” Yunho started giving everyone orders, moving to the practically lifeless body on his deck.

He scooped you up effortlessly, feeling just how cold your body was against his and needing to hold back his emotions. “Seonghwa, come with me.” Yunho said, walking towards the door that lead below deck and his chambers.

“Who is that?” Wooyoung asked, watching his captain walk below deck with the woman in his arms. “Captain Y/L/N’s daughter.” Mingi responded and the younger male’s eyes went wide. Some of the crew joined after the attack, only knowing about you through stories told by Yunho and your father. You were a legend, a legend everyone thought was dead.

“We have to get these wet clothes off and wrap her up in blankets.” Seonghwa explained as Yunho laid you down on his bed. He looked at Seonghwa with wide eyes. Seonghwa was still his hyung even though he was captain and in moments like this, he was filled with fear and need his hyung.

Quickly, the two made work of your wet clothes, avoiding looking at your body as much as they could and instantly wrapping you in the blankets on his bed. He attempted drying your hair to the best of his ability and also under the watchfull eyes of Seonghwa, who was grabbing more blankets to keep you warm.

“How is she not dead?” Yunho asked, completely befuddled as to how you were still alive, 5 years later. “She’s always been strong. But I have to admit, I thought she was dead too.” Seonghwa admitted softly, feeling your pulse on your neck. “Her pulse is already stronger, I think we might have acted fast enough.” He added on and his words were calming to Yunho.

Yunho sat next to you on the bed, just looking at your face. You hadn’t changed much, well you had gotten older but so had he. Even if in that moment he didn’t feel like it. He felt like he was seventeen again and everything was normal, like your dad was still around and you didn’t disappear for 5 years. But that wasn’t the case and Yunho was now the captain and you were slowly coming back from the dead.

“I should stay down here, with her. If she wakes up, you know.” Yunho said, looking at Seonghwa. He nodded his head in understanding, he knew Yunho loved you. Even when he was seventeen it was obvious, he wasn’t going to stop him from being with you now.

“You want me to take care of things on top?” Seonghwa asked and Yunho nodded. “Please.” His voice was barely a whisper, but Seonghwa understood and left. Yunho was racking his brain as to how he was going to tell you everything when you woke up, because he absolutely knew you would, you had too.

But it had been a few hours and he was starting to lose hope, tearing himself away from you to walk out onto the deck. “Is she up?” Seonghwa asked, watching the taller male walk from below deck. “No, not yet. I just couldn’t sit there any longer.” Yunho shook his head leaning on the railing and taking his head into his hands. The sky had turned dark amidst the chaos, telling Yunho just how long of a day it had already been. “If she doesn’t wake up soon, I don’t think she will.” Those weren’t words anyone wanted to hear.

Your body was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth, you weren’t dead, this couldn’t be what death felt like. No, it couldn’t be. Heaven or hell wouldn’t be the smell of seawater and the sound of wood creaking filling your ears. There was a flickering light as you opened your eyes slowly, one you knew all too well from spending time under decks. No, you weren’t dead.

Blinking slowly, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the light and sat up slowly. A sudden rush to your head made you lay back down a moment. “You did almost die. Maybe you should take it easy.” You said softly, throat sore from your previous gasping for air. You sat up again, even slower than before and looked around the room. Holding the blankets wrapped around your body tightly as you did so.

This was familiar, the quarters you were in. They were very familiar, comforting almost. This was your fathers’ ship, this was the ‘Desire’. But it couldn’t be... could it?

You whipped your head around, looking towards where you knew your old room would be if it was and low and behold. There was the door to your old quarters, the little sign your father had made for you with your name carved into the wood. Tears couldn’t help but pool in the corner of your eyes, you were finally home.

You scrambled out of the bed, feeling a sudden rush of energy and adrenaline. You had to go find your father, you had too. It had been 5 years and they must’ve thought you were dead. Wait, did that mean that you really did see Yunho. Or was that in the inbetween, the space between life and death?

You had so many questions and so many uncertainties. Priority number one was to find your father. So you pushed yourself off of the bed, stabilizing yourself as the blood rushed to your head. The blanket that was wrapped around you now laying on the floor as you pulled your slightly damp clothes back on. You tried clearing your throat but it burned immensly from the water inhalation, making you cringe.

‘The Desire’ was your childhood. You knew the ship like the back of your hand, even if it had been 5 years. You instantly found yourself climbing the stairs leading to the door to the deck. Maybe you shouldn’t have rushed yourself to move so quickly but, your family, you were home. Weakly, you pushed the door open and took in the fresh air and dark blue sky.

Yunho heard the deck door open and turned his head around. Low and behold there you stood, holding onto the door for support because it felt like your legs were going to give out at any moment. He couldn’t reach you fast enough, running over the deck to take you into his arms before you could fall. You had strained yourself entirely too much since you had woken up, your body wasn’t ready for any of it.

You were sure Yunho was a hallucination when you saw him prior, but now holding him, feeling the warmth of his skin and seeing the glitter in his eye, you were aware that he was very much real.

“I thought you were dead.” Your voice was scratchy, cracking as your emotions took over too. “I could say the same thing.” Yunho laughed, holding you against his chest. “The last thing I saw that night was a blade going through your stomach.” Tears were spilling now as your scratchy words came out. “Shh, it’s okay we’ll talk more once you’re a bit better.” He said, still simply holding you.

His voice was comforting, it reminded you of home. The ship was comforting, it was your home.

“Where’s my father?” You asked, allowing Yunho to put you back on your feet and his arm wrapped around your waist for support. Glancing around the deck, you recognized a few familiar faces but not the one you were most excited to see. “Where is he?” You asked again, looking at Yunho. He was avoiding your gaze, but he found it hard to look at you in this state: injured and upset. Especially after having just gotten you back.

How was Yunho supposed to tell you that your father had died looking for you, or that he had gone half mad doing it?

“Yunho?” Your scratchy voice brought him back to reality. “Come on let’s get you warmed up again. I’ll explain things.” Yunho pulled you back below deck, your feet barely touching the ground as he supported all of your weight.

You took the moment to really look at him, as he rushed around the quarters to keep you warm. He’d gotten taller, alot taller. Yunho was always taller than you but now it was quite prominent. His shoulders were wider now too, a lot more muscular than what he used to be. He had aged well, he was handsome.

Burrying deeper into the blankets, you relished in the warmth and watched as he sat down next to you. It took him a moment to look at you, but eventually he looked up. Sparkly eyes not having changed once in the 5 years you hadn’t seen him. He swallowed thickly, fiddling with the blanket between his fingers. Yunho was trying his best to avoid telling you, even if he knew you should know. He wanted to spare you the pain.

“The night you were taken, the captain found me on the deck. I was pretty sure I was dead already. Felt like the whole world was going dark.” Yunho started to explain and you thought back to the pain you felt, thinking that he had died. “Seonghwa somehow, managed to patch me up all in the mean time your father was doing anything and everything to try and find you. Every waking second spent trying to find the ship with the black sails that comes and goes like a ghost in the night.” His voice faltered talking about it all and well you weren’t dumb. You just needed to hear him say it.

“He was so convinced you were alive. I feel so bad that we didn’t believe him, but we humored him and helped him look. Catching odd jobs every now and then to get by.” You sat up, placing your hand on his for comfort. Even though you were gone for 5 years, it seemed like the crew of the ‘desire’ didn’t have it easy either.

“Your father got sick, really sick. He always used to say ‘Of all the things to take me out, I never thought it would be an illness’” Yunho squeezed your hand and you felt yourself starting to tear up, so much had changed. “Your father passed away 2 years ago and left the ship to me, making me the new captain.” The tears fell at his words, one of the few things that kept you alive all those years was the thought of seeing your father again.

“He never stopped looking for you.” Yunho finally looked at you, hating to see the tears rolling down your cheeks and you cold hand holding his. He lifted your hand, rubbing it to warm it up. “I’m so sorry we didn’t believe him.” You could hear all the remorse in his voice, remorse for not believing your father, remorse towards his passing, it was hard to hear.

“It’s alright, Yunho.” You wiped your tears away quickly and he grabbed your other hand to try to warm them up. He ignored your words, blowing warm air onto your hands and continuing to rub them. “I’ll go get you something warm to eat.” Yunho needed to get out, for his own emotions sake, he was a captain now and he needed to be strong. “No, don’t leave. Please.” You whispered, gripping his hands as tightly as you could.

He hadn’t even realised that a tear had slipped until he looked at you, weak, tired and sad. “Okay, okay.” Yunho nodded, kicking his boots off and moving to lay next to you in his bed but on top of the sheets. Your cold fingers reached out and wiped his tears away, heart breaking for him and yourself. If there was any time for self pity, it was now.

The feeling of him laying next to you warmed you up almost instantly, making you curl into him even more and revelling in the feeling of being home. “Relax, you’re home now. You’re safe. We finally have you back and we aren’t letting you go anywhere.” You burried your face into his chest at his words, knowing they were true and let your body relax to slowly fall asleep.

It wasn’t Yunho’s intention to fall asleep with you, but he couldn’t help it. The day’s emotions had gotten to him and naturally had exhausted him. But he did wake up again with a start and a panic filled chest. It must’ve been the dream he was having, or maybe it was the fact that you weren’t next to him anymore and not anywhere in his room.

Did he dream up that you were back?

Pushing himself off of the bed, he rushed out of the room and onto the deck. He wasn’t sure if you were real anymore and needed that confirmation for his own sake.

However that confirmation came quickly as he found you sitting on the stairs, eating some soup and laughing with Mingi and Wooyoung. That panic in his chest subsiding at the scene and allowing himself te release the breath he was holding.

“She came out this morning, claiming your snoring woke her up along with her stomach growling. Seems her personality hasn’t changed much.” Seonghwa laughed and Yunho smiled. “That’s a relief.” Was all he could say before turning to finally look at Seonghwa. “You should’ve woken me up.” He added and Seonghwa shook his head. “Y/N told me not too, that you seemed tired the night before. I figured since she’s the captain’s daughter, I should listen.” Seonghwa had a point to that and it was something that Yunho hadn’t thought about before.

He knew that if you were never taken, you would now be captain. Your father was always training you to become the captain and it was purely circumstancial that Yunho was the captain now. It was only right in his mind that you should be the captain now.

You smiled as you noticed Yunho approaching you three and you wiped your lips from the soup remnants. “Goodmorning, sleeping beauty.” You joked and Yunho instantly sighed. “Your sense of humor hasn’t changed at all.” He sounded annoyed, but he was relieved, your traumatic experiences didn’t seem to dampen your spirit. He wished he could say the same.

“Anyways, Captain what’s your first order?” Yunho asked, causing confused looks from you, Seonghwa, Mingi and Wooyoung to be shot his way. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, not understanding if this was a joke or not. “You heard me. You were the captain’s daughter, he always wanted you to be captain. Now you’re here.” Yunho stated and you felt an odd pit in your stomach. It had been years since being mentioned as possible captain had happened and now Yunho was simply giving you the position.

“I-I-” You stuttered and Yunho looked at you, deadly serious. “Yunho, he made you captain.” You started, Wooyoung and Mingi excusing themselves from your conversation with Seonghwa following suit. “I know he made me captain. But he wanted to make you captain, you know that.” He explained and you shook your head. “Those things don’t matter. They stopped mattering the second I was taken off this ship. My father, loved you. He wanted you to be captain for a reason. Besides, the crew knows you, they trust you and they obviously follow you as a captain.” You paused, looking at him and making sure to look into his eyes. You needed him to know you meant this, because your desire to be captain was so low it was practically non-existent.

“You’re the captain, you should stay the captain. I will be on the sidelines and help where I can, but I have no desire to be captain.” Yunho felt slightly reassured at your words or maybe it was your expression, either way he felt better.

“I missed you.” Yunho said after a long a pause, but now he was looking at the ocean. He found it hard to look you in the eyes to tell you things weighing on his mind.

You looked at his face, really taking the moment to take it in. Age had been kind to Yunho, turning him from the boy you knew into a man. His jaw was more defined, his shoulders were wider and he was definitely taller, even more attractive than he was 5 years ago. Maybe that was because you were both grown up.

“I missed you too.” You said back, tucking your knees under your chin and wrapping your arms around your legs. You meant it, you cried for a week thinking that Yunho was dead and all because he was trying to save you. It was a guilt that you had carried with yourself for years and that was wiped away the day prior.

“Well captain, where are we headed?” You asked and he finally looked at you again. “We are headed to port. However, you should be resting your body faced a lot of trauma in the last 48 hours.” You sighed at his words, but you knew he was right. “I’ll rest until we reach port then, but I haven’t been on land in 5 years. I’d like to go.” You compromised and Yunho looked down at the wooden deck, you were as stubborn as ever.

“Fine. We need to get a few things, food supply has been running low. Need to stock up.” He explained and you smiled. “Sounds quite honest for a pirate.” You remarked and he shook his head with a smile. “I never really was good at attacking others.” He explained and you couldn’t help but smile too. You hadn’t smiled this much in so long, your cheeks were starting to hurt.

“An honest pirate. What are the odds?” You remarked to yourself and stood up from your spot on the stairs. “I won’t do any work then, because you don’t want me too. But I will stay on deck and watch, to remember what it’s like to be home again.” You brushed past him, making sure to pat his back as you did. Yunho watched you walk away and towards Mingi who was by the helm, steering the ship.

There was already such a difference from the way you looked yesterday and the way you looked now. With your hair blowing in the wind and the smile on your face, you looked just as beautiful as you did 5 years ago and it made Yunho weak in the knees.

It took a few days for the ‘Desire’ to reach port, pulling it’s very obvious pirate sail down once they reach the horizon of the island. There was no need to alarm people, not when you were there to do honest work.

In the meantime you tried to abide by what Yunho had asked, for you to rest. But it was sure proving to be difficult, you hated feeling useless. Yet you still tried to help out, marking inventory, charting routes, trying to get your sea legs back to the best of your ability. You did all this while trying not to get caught by Yunho and failing.

If it was the you from 5 years ago, you wouldn’t have listened to him. But things had changed, the captain role suited him well and he had an air of authority to him, you couldn’t help but listen when he scolded you. Yunho had even insisted you take the captain’s quarters, knowing they gifted more privacy than the crew’s quarters, much to your dismay. A captain needed that privacy, not you. But you had lost the argument with him and slept in his bed while he lay in a hammock way below deck.

“Ahh.” Yunho hissed, stretching out and feeling his joints cracking. You shook your head at his noises, knowing they were because of the hammock. “I told you to take the bed, but you insisted. You can still have it, I don’t mind.” You said and he shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t feel right.” Yunho said as the island came larger and larger into view. “Yes it would. Especially for your back.” You retorted and he sighed. “You still argue too much.” “That’s besides the fact. How long are we staying here?” You asked, feeling excited to be so close to land again.

Yunho could see the excitement in your eyes and the little excited bounce in your step as you walked over to the railing to look at the island. He followed you after telling Seonghwa to prepare things to anchor.

“5 years of not being on land. I would’ve gone insane.” He remarked, standing directly next to you with his side pressing into you. He wasn’t wrong, you were on the verge of going insane when your captor’s ship was blown to bits. “This is going to sound insensitive...” Yunho started and craned your head to look up at him, preparing for his question. However, he couldn’t help but pause and take in the way you looked at him.

“But why did they keep you around... for 5 years? It’s something I’ve been thinking about since we found you.” His question wasn’t insensitive, it was something you wondered too. It was something you had asked your captor’s almost everyday, but you had only gotten the answer recently.

“I asked the Captain, almost everyday why he took me and he wouldn’t respond. But the sea was slowly starting to drive him mad and he finally told me.” You paused, smiling softly to reassure Yunho you were okay speaking about it. “He said he took me because of how close my father and I were. That meant I must’ve known the info he did. But dad never told me about the Aurora and well, the Captain didn’t know that.” Yunho’s ears perked up at the mention of the Aurora. The Aurora was a myth, or so he was told.

“And then he wanted to use me as bargaining, for information. But that got postponed and postponed, new things, new adventures for him and his crew. So the deals never happened.” You stopped, making sure Yunho was still listening and well he was, intently. He wanted to make sure no one hand physically hurt you more than he was already aware of. The memory of the stuff you had went through wasn’t good, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as what people would of thought, you were treated more as a servant than a prisoner and you were kept fed. Judging by stories your father had told you, you could have had it way worse.

“Secretly I think he just liked having me around.” You joked, you were never one to wallow in self pity long. Yunho sighed, looking down to the ground being very obviously deep in thought. You extended your hand to cup his cheek, making him look back up at you. “I’m alright, despite everything, I’m alright.” You reassured and he simply nodded his head, nestling his face further into your hands.

The moment was endearing, sparking something in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time... butterflies.

“Anchor’s down and we are docked, Captain.” Mingi came by to say, ruining the moment slightly and snapping Yunho back down to Earth. “Right, we docked. Uh, supplies we need to get.” He pulled away from you, walking to the other end of the deck to try and get some things ready. You sighed, leaning back onto the railing of the ship. You were happy to be on land, but you were quite enjoying holding him.

Yunho walked down from his ship and onto the dock, nodding at some of the royal guard shaking all suspicions that the ‘Desire’ was a pirate ship. “It costs 10 silvers to dock.” A man registering the coming and going ships remarked, looking Yunho up and down. Yunho was young for a captain, people always underestimated him or thought less of him because of it.

“Here.” Yunho dropped the coins onto the mans registery before going to walk off. “My legs feel all shaky being on land again. So don’t mind me.” You said and grabbed onto Yunho’s arm for support. It seemed like your sea legs were fine, your land legs were the ones that needed work. Yunho laughed, allowing you to link your arm with his and he guided you towards the market.

Half of the crew stayed behind, guarding the ship and to come up with excuses should the royal guards feel the sudden need to investigate ships. The other half wandered around town with the money they had made or better to say looted.

But Yunho didn’t want you to wander far from him and in reality, you didn’t want to be far from him either. The feelings you remembered having 5 years prior were very much coming back. Something you always thought was a stupid little teenage crush was definitely not the case anymore. Yunho became a man, a man you loved.

You stayed by him as he bartered, laughing at the chortle the farmer gave him at his suggested price and making Yunho sigh. “Fine.” He sighed, slipping the man a few coppers and telling him to place the crates by the ship.

The last few days you had spent observing him in his position as captain, well admiring more. He was a just and kind captain, something that you didn’t see often and well definitely not in pirates. It was a rare quality your father had too and it seemed he taught Yunho well.

Even now, you couldn’t help but watch him as he conducted business. It seemed like everyone liked him and the way he held himself. It was entirely fascinating and well it seemed it wasn’t just that way to you. He was catching the eyes of alot of women, be it the daughters of the farmers he bartered with or the ladies standing outside of the local brothel. You absolutely hated it, but you didn’t own Yunho in any way or form. However this just further justified that he had grown up incredibly well.

“Captain, you aren’t joining?” You heard Wooyoung call from a window as you walked through the dark street. Night was about to fall and it seemed the crew members were indulging in a night with the local brothel’s prospects. You really couldn’t blame them, they were at sea for months at a time and they needed to get rid of their frustrations... of any sort.

You glanced at Wooyoung, not being able to help yourself but stare at the woman who was kissing down his neck. “I’ll sit this one out.” Yunho called back and Wooyoung laughed. You remained quiet, it was his choice if he wanted to stay and indulge. It would hurt if he decided to, but that was his choice. He was a captain after all, he must’ve been stressed.

“You’re funny, come on Captain.” Wooyoung taunted, one of the girls coming out of the building’s entrance and leaning against the door frame. She was beautiful with dark hair and golden sunkissed skin, there was no question and even you were tempted, let alone Yunho.

“I’m not holding you back. If you want too, go ahead.” You said and Yunho looked at you in surprise. Was he tempted? Only slightly, but you telling him to go made him second guess things. Part of him wanted you to tell him not too because it meant you might have still had feelings for him or at least that they were rekindled in the past few days.

“I was planning on going to bed on time anyways, today cost a bit more energy than I anticipated.” You lied, but you meant that you wanted him to have a good time. Yunho fumbled with his fingers and for a split moment, he looked like his 17 year old self. He mentally debated for a moment and decided to go inside.

You had only been back a few days, there was no way your feelings were there. Or so Yunho thought as he watched you head in the direction of the docks and the hand of the girl ran over his back. “Captain was it?” Her voice was soft in his ears as he ridirected his attention to her, nodding. “Tell me some of your stories then, Captain.” She smiled, pulling him into the brothel by the fabric of his jacket.

It hurt your heart when he entered the brothel, even more when you saw her hand on his back but you let it go, he had made his choice and you had made yours.

“Where’s the rest?” Seonghwa asked as you appeared on deck. You scoffed at his question and sat yourself down on one of the barrels of grain that you had bought that afternoon. “I’m assuming balls deep in some girls and boys from the brothel.” You stated and Seonghwa was taken back for a moment. “Sorry, I- nevermind.” You started but finished just as quickly, letting your emotions speak for you.

“So Yunho is also partaking in this.” You don’t know how Seonghwa ended up being so wise and the person you’d go to when you needed to talk, but he did and you appreciated him for it. “Yes, Yunho is also partaking in this. I told him he should. Being captain must be... stressfull.” You could understand, you had needs. It was just, you would rather deal with his stress... with him.

“Your father always knew you liked him and well he had a hunch that Yunho liked you too.” Seonghwa laughed and you shrugged. Your father was always right, you missed him for it.

“That day, that day that I was taken I told Yunho how I felt. He told me he felt the same and then all Hell broke loose. Seemed almost like fate was intervening.” You chuckled and played with the hem of your shirt. “I got kidnapped and Yunho almost died.” You found it almost comical, how your lives could’ve taken such a turn.

“Yeah, it seems that way almost. But you made your way back and Yunho lived. Two things that seemed impossible happened.” Seonghwa leaned against the barrels as well and looked up at the stars. He wasn’t wrong, not at all. If you love something you have to let it go. If it was meant to be, it would come back to you and well you had managed to come back together.

“I haven’t said it yet since I’ve been back, but I missed you too Seonghwa. You always listened.” You hopped off the barrel as you spoke. “The crew missed having you around too and well, I missed having the ship’s princess here.” Seonghwa laughed, placing a hand on your arm. You leaned into his touch slightly and then pulled away. “I’m going to go to bed, however. To sit in my anger alone.” You joked, heading towards the captain’s quarters. “Don’t sit in anger too long. Anger and the sea don’t mix well.” He called after you, making you simply smile as you disappeared below deck.

You were angry, angry at yourself for telling him to go but also angry that he chose to go. You let out a disgruntled sigh as you undid the ties on your boots, kicking them off before working to undo the ties around the collar of your blouse.

As you did so, the door to the captain’s quarters flew open. The sudden rush of air and the sound made you jump up, clutching your chest as you looked at who it was.

“Yunho?” You asked, looking at him and holding the top of your blouse shut. He looked disgruntled, hair tousled and chest rising and falling deeply. “How could you let me go?” He asked, taking you back immensly. “I’m sorry? How could I let you go? You’re a grown man, you made that choice.” You were almost laughing, his actions were most definitely his choice. “I know and it was stupid but how could let me go?” He sighed, running his figners through his hair. “It didn’t take much convincing. The girl was absolutely gorgeous, I don’t blame you. Besides everyone has needs.” You explained, looking at him with a confused expression.

“Was she not good?” You asked still thoroughly in the dark of why he was upset. “I was in there for half an hour, drinking an ale and the whole time while she tried to... I was thinking about you, so I left.” You were frozen at his words, your hands falling from your blouse to your sides. Yunho was scared, this confession was different from the one 5 years ago. This was real, this wasn’t a crush. This was a mix of lust and love.

“Was I dumb to think you felt the same? Because you telling me to go in there told me you don’t.” Yunho questioned your silence and tried to avert his eyes from the cleavage that was now very much out. You took a deep breath, not allowing yourself to think too much about your actions as you did them.

Stepping forward, you placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him to your level. His lips pressing against yours roughly as you did so, but you really didn’t care. This was years of pining and being concerned of each other wrapped into one kiss.

Yunho didn’t need to think twice in kissing you back, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he did so. He pressed his lips against yours even harder, feeling your fingers tangling into his hair.

You could taste the ale slightly on his tongue as it dipped into your mouth, making you smile. “You taste like ale.” You mumbled against his lips only for him to shake his head. “You either talk too much or too less.” He replied in response, leaning down to grip your thighs and lifting you in the process. “What am I doing now?” You asked, arms wrapping around his neck. You couldn’t help but tease a little, especially with the way he was looking at you. “Definitely talking too much.” He said and kissed you again, even more feverishly than before.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to your ass, holding you up effortlessly. He gave you a squeeze and revelled in the way you hummed against his lips. Your hand caressed his cheek and you pulled your lips away from his for a moment, just so you could look at him and take him in. His eyes sparkled in the light from the candles and they were a significantly darker than usual while looking at you.

He walked you backwards, a small smile playing on his lips as he did so. Yunho was doing the exact same thing, taking you in. The way your lips were soft under his, the way your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath and the way your skin looked golden under the light of the candles. He took it all in because as fate had shown before, he didn’t know when it could be taken all away again.

Yunho dropped you onto the bed, maybe a little rougher than he intended too but you didn’t mind. Especially not as he slipped between your legs and hovered over you, still standing as you sat in front of him on the bed. He leaned down, hand holding your neck as he kissed you again. Tongue swiping over your lips as you tried pulling him further down to your level. The hand on your neck moved down slightly, tracing the skin that was revealed from your blouse and down your chest. He grabbed your breast throught the fabric, kneading softly as you whimpered against his lips.

“Take it off.” He told you, hardly pulling his lips away from yours as he did. The demand sent goosebumps over your body and the dominance he was radiating made your core ache. Your fingers found the hem of your blouse, not wasting too much time in taking it off. Yunho helped you, grabbing the thin fabric and pulling it off of you to reveal your bare chest.

His lips instantly attached the newly revealed skin and his hands cupped your breasts, massaging them a little harsher than before. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of his lips all over your chest, leaving marks where he could and simply because he wanted too. This was his new favorite feeling, the feeling of you under him and his lips on you.

“You’re so soft.” He mumbled against your skin and sinking down to his knees. Yunho was now practically the same height as you as you sat on his bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your chest nearly flush against his face. His tongue ran over your nipples gently before allowing his lips to wrap around it, sucking softly as your fingers carded through his hair. You were a whimpering mess under his mouth and you could tell he was only just starting.

“Yunho-” You moaned, starting to tug on his blouse. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours. He took his lips off of you with a chuckle. “How about you take it off now?” You asked, your hand tilting his chin up to look at you. This was such a sight, Yunho sitting between your legs and looking up at you with those big beautiful eyes. He smiled at your request before allowing you to help him with the ties of his blouse. His hands fumbled along with yours, admiring the size difference between the two as he did before deciding it was done enough to pull it off.

You watched him throw the fabric to the side before turning back to you. Your hands moved before you really put much thought into it, moving from his bare shoulders and down his chest. He was so much more muscular than 5 years prior and he had little scars from fights and accidents. But one stood out the most, the big scar just off the side of his belly button, the one that showed that he had evaded death.

Yunho shivered slightly, feeling your fingers graze the scar before bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. “Stand up.” You said, kissing his neck gently as you did so. He faltered for a moment, raising up from his knees to stand before you again. As if he wasn’t incredibly hard already, the sight of you dropping to your knees infront of him definitely helped.

Your hands moved down his stomach stopping at the ties of his trousers as you looked at him. Lifting yourself slightly, you kissed down the faint v line that dipped down and made shivers go down his spine. Yunho’s hand moved to your hair and pulled the loose strands out of your face so he could see every expression.

You tugged his trousers down, allowing his cock to spring free and he let out a hiss. With a soft smile, your hand wrapped around him softly and you thumb ran over his slit to spread some of the precum around. Yunho couldn’t hold back his moans at the feeling, your hand was better than his own or some girl from a brothel. To you he sounded absolutely heavenly, making your lips part in a sigh before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightened as he felt your tongue swirl over his tip before throwing his head back. “Oh shit.” He hissed as you bobbed your head over him, forcing yourself to take more of him and using your hand for what didn’t fit. You pulled your mouth off of him and took a deep breath, giving him a soft squeeze with your hand just to see his response. Yunho almost whimpered and tugged your hair again because of the pleasure. “That feels so good.” He huffed as you took him into your mouth again. Your nose brushed his lower stomach as his cock pressed against the back of your throat, making you gag but you took it. His sounds were most definitely worth it.

Yunho back away from you, his hands running through his hair as his chest rose and fell deeply. “I don’t want to finish yet.” He said, catching his breath as he looked at you completely bewildered. You smiled, loving that you had that effect on him before wiping your mouth slightly.

He moved back towards you, lifting you onto your feet before pushing you back onto the bed. Hands, almost instantly finding the ties to your trousers to pull them down harshly. Yunho was feeling an almost feral need to taste you, fuck you, have you in any way possible. His patience was running thin.

You let out a surprised sound as your trouser were ripped away from your legs, very much feeling the same need Yunho was at this point. Holding onto your ankles, he pulled you to edge of the bed and sank down on his again. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. His lips moved over your thighs, slowly but surely getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

You watched with heavy breaths as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently at first. The action left your hips bucking and Yunho smiling against your core. “Stay still.” He demanded and pressed your hips back down into the mattress before his lips became a bit harsher. With his eyes watching you and his lips against your core, the pleasure was incredibly intense. Your hands moved down your body, over your breasts and down to his on your hips. You just needed something to hold on to.

His tongue circled over your clit as your fingers laced with his, your back arched off the bed. His other hand moved off of your hips, pointer finger circling around your entrance before slipping inside. It caught you off guard, making your hips buck again and a moan tear from your lips. He added another finger, thrusting them into a little harder and fast as lips continued to suck on your clit. Yunho just wanted you to cum, he wanted to see you fall over the edge, he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

“Yunho- I’m, Oh.” You whimpered, squeezing his hand harshly as you tried to keep your hips still. The pit in your stomach was on the verge of exploding and he was doing everything he could to make it happen. His fingers continued to curl into you and your moans were almost soundless as you toppled over the edge. “That’s it.” He cooed as your thighs shook around his head, his fingers not slowing down one second to ride out your orgasm. Yunho watched your face contort and listened to your whimpers as he did so, a soft smile on his face the whole time.

“You sound so good.” He complimented, fingers not easing up any as he did so. Your legs closed around his hand and you pushed it away, the overstimulation being too much for you. Yunho stood back up, hovering over your body as you caught your breath. You opened your eyes, locking with his for a moment as his hands massaged your hips. “Are you going to fuck me already?” You asked, words surprising him.

The massaging of your hips ended as he lifted you up and flipped you over, catching you incredibly off guard but making you laugh none the less. “I told you, you talk too much sometimes.” He whispered in your ear as you adjusted to sit on your hands and knees. You smiled and arched your back slightly, ass pressing against his bare cock and he let out a sigh.

You could feel his hand move up your back and to your hair, tugging harshly and pressing your back against his chest. You could feel the tip of his cock sitting at your entrance and you squirmed slightly. You had never been quite this needy before and it was all Yunho’s doing.

He released your hair but wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you in place as he wasted no more time. Yunho thrust himself fully into you, hardly giving a moment to adjust to the stretch. The mewl that left your lips was a noise he knew he’d never forget and the way you felt gripping his cock either. It was like you were made for him.

Yunho started fucking into you hardly giving you a chance to breathe because of his brutal pace. His arm remained around your waist to keep pressed against him and his other hand gripped your chin to make you look at him. This was it for him, knowing your completely blissed out expression was because of him and only him. He revelled in the feeling.

Your sounds egged him on to fuck you even harder, pace being sure to leave bruises. You lifted your hand to hold on to the back of his neck, just so you had some leverage. “You feel so nice and tight around me, you were absolutely made for me.” He mumbled into your neck and kissed the skin. His words were making you blush which was almost funny considering the position you were in. “Fuck-” Was all you could muster as he hit that sweet spot inside of you, your fingers lacing with his on your waist. You were pretty sure that anyone on deck could hear your moaning but you really couldn’t care less.

You could feel yourself getting close and so could Yunho, the way you were squeezing him left him moaning into your neck. The hand holding your chin moved down your body and stopped at your clit, rubbing harshly as he mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.

“I want you to cum for me.” He started, kissing your lips as he picked up his pace even more. He continued to rub your clit as your body shook, that familiar coil in your stomach tightening. Yunho’s hips stuttered as he felt his own orgasm tear through him, moaning your name into your ear. As you felt him cum inside you, your own orgasm washed over you leaving your frozen and breathless.

You sat there for a moment, catching your breath as Yunho laced gentle kisses over your neck doing the same. The arm that was wrapped around you waist remained there, holding you up as you both calmed down for moment. Your fingers traced shapes into his hand, tickling him slightly and making him laugh.

“Well that was something.” You mumbled, moving away from him to lay down on the bed. Your body was in dire need of some rest, you could imagine his was too. You laid down on top of the sheets completely naked, looking up at Yunho who still standing and watching you.

There was a sort of after glow surrounding you, your flushed out cheeks, the marks over your chest and the sparkle in your eyes. He found himself simply staring as you blinked at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” He started, finally moving to lay down next to you. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck you again if you don’t stop.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but giggle too as you rested your head on his chest.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You asked and kissed over his chest lightly, teasingly almost. “A promise.” Yunho answered, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him. “Captain Yunho, I think I might’ve fallen in love with you all over again.” You admitted, looking into his eyes. Yunho really couldn’t help the smile that pulled over his lips or the pink tint that covered his ears. “That’s a relief. I don’t think I ever fell out of love with you.” Yunho said and let his hand massage your bare thigh.

“As long as we’re on the same page.” You said even softer, feeling incredibly tired after your day. Yunho settled with you in his arms allowing himself to also fall asleep with peace in mind for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, Yunho woke up to an empty bed and he panicked for a moment. Only to realise you were sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, completely bare as you flipped through a journal.

“This is a view I could get used to every morning.” Yunho mumbled, making you look up from the scribbles in the book. “If you play your cards right, you will.” You joked, standing up from your seat and wandering back to the bed. Yunho’s cheeks and eyes were puffy with sleep as he watched you saunter back to bed journal in hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” You asked, laying back down next to him and allowing his arms to wrap around you. You hadn’t noticed the journal lying there originally, but it had peaked your interest as you lied in bed that morning and rightfully so. It was your father’s sea journal and you had never looked in it before that morning.

Yunho kissed your bare shoulder slightly as he watched you flip through the pages. “I was going to when you woke up, if you woke up that day. Then I had to explain everything to you and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” Yunho explained, hoping you weren’t upset with him because of it. “It’s alright, I understand.” You reassured him, your hand stroking his face gently. “Have you flipped through this?” You asked, pausing on a page that had sparked a lot of interest for you a few minutes prior.

“No, it didn’t feel right. Like I was reading through his personal thoughts.” Yunho shook his head and moved to read the page. His eyes widened at the words over the page. “Is this real?” He asked and you shrugged. “I have no idea but there are directions... he never told me about this.” Your voice trailed off, wondering why your father never explained the Aurora to you or how to get there.

“Where were we headed after this stop?” You asked, reading the directions he had scribbled haphazardly over the page. “Nowhere specific. Somewhere, anywhere. At this point we were just surviving with the name pirate branded onto us.” He sounded lost for a moment, not enjoying the life they were leading. You both paused and looked at eachother. “If we don’t have a set course... What’s the harm in going?”You asked, knowing if you actually found the Aurora you’d be set for life. It was a legend but according to your father’s notebooks the legends were real. According to your captors, the legends were real.

The Auroura was the cause for your life being taken away from you for years, the reason Yunho was almost killed and the reason you would never see your father again. If there was an ounce of truth to it all, it was worth finding.

Yunho thought for a second, looking at your expression before standing up. He shuffled around for a moment, pulling his clothes back on that were thrown around during the previous evenings’ events. You watched him expectantly as he shuffled around, holding back your laughter as he stumbled slightly.

He extended his hand to you and you looked at him in confusion. “I’m going to need the directions if I want Mingi to chart a course.” He laughed, explaining himself and you felt your chest fill with warmth. Yunho leaned over the bed to kiss you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re not wrong about there being no harm. We’ve been sailing for months without a purpose. Seems like with you back, we have our purpose again.”

A/N: I left the ending kinda open to a part 2... so some feedback would be amazing. No in reality this fic took me months to write so I really hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for being patient with me, I love you guys and I’m sorry for being m.i.a while writing and stuff. ♥♥♥

#ateez #ateez smut #yunho #yunho smut #ateez reactions #yunho reactions

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

final sleigh drabble #1

❛ a few hours later...❜

original oneshot here // drabble index here

kim seokjin x reader smut, comedy 8,156 words (🥴)

Rushing to the door as you heard the low knock against the wood, you took a few deep breaths before yanking it open, knowing what was about to happen once Seokjin stepped inside.

He smiled as you came into view, a tiny one that seemed to round his cheeks something crazy. Something inside you went a little gooey. He was dressed in a thin black sweater that hugged his body, a basic silver chain hanging around the neckline. You were half expecting him to turn up in another one of his Christmas jumpers — the one he had been wearing earlier was still embedded inside your brain, but mainly because of what you’d been doing... Seven hours ago you’d thrown caution to the wind and participated in something that could 1000% get you fired. Although... It had been your idea, so.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, feeling momentarily a little awkward. This was no innocent visit after all. He was here to have sex with you. Please, he’d begged. Let me fuck you. The memory of his words were enough to tinge your cheeks a darker shade.

“Hey,” he greeted, taking the first step inside. For a brief second his face appeared not so far from yours and you wondered if he was about to kiss you. You had kissed with abandon earlier on in the day after all. But instead, his lips flickered up into a smirk. He was amused as he spoke. “Pizza guy just pulled up too.”

“Oh.” It took a moment for your brain to process what he was telling you. “Let me grab my purse.”

You toddled off, into your living room and through to the kitchen, leaving him by the open door. Jerk, you thought, realising he’d been messing with you, or at least, that’s what you thought. Who knew, and you weren’t about to ask him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

When you got back to your entryway Seokjin had his wallet out in front of the pizza delivery guy, fishing for bills. “What are you doing?” You demanded.

Seokjin shrugged. “I’ll pay, it’s no big deal.”

“No way.” You thrust inside your purse, eager to beat him.

“Y/N.” It sounded as if he was half warning you, voice low.

“It was my idea, I’m paying.”

Inviting him over just for sex seemed a little... crude, for lack of a better word, so suggesting pizza helped soften the intent – in your eyes.

Seokjin looked at you incredulously and when he realised you weren’t going to give in, he sighed loudly. “Let’s go dutch then, I am eating half after all.”

“Fine.” You weren’t happy about it, but fine.

You both handed your cash to the delivery guy who had watched the whole exchange wordlessly. You took the boxes from him and waited as he counted out your change.

“Here,” he said, reaching his hand out to pass it to Seokjin, who shook his head.

“She can have it.”

The guy changed direction, holding his arm out as he waited for you to take it (hands full, mind you...).

“No, you can have it,” you told Seokjin.

He turned his head, dismissing you. “I don’t want it.”

You choked out a noise of frustration. However “gooey” you’d been feeling five minutes ago had well and truly disappeared now. Nothing had changed, despite what had happened earlier, he was still an annoying ass when he wanted to be.

“Can someone just take it?” The delivery guy exclaimed, causing you to startle. “I have five other pizzas getting cold.”

“Fine,” you hissed, displeased by his attitude. Yes, okay, you were wasting his time but no need to be so rude about it. “Put it on the box.” You glanced at Seokjin, seeing him try to hold back his laughter. That just annoyed you more.

“Wash your hands,” you ordered him as soon as the mannerless delivery guy left.

He slipped his sneakers off and followed you into the kitchen, stopping halfway as you dropped the pizza boxes onto your coffee table. He washed his hands in silence, absentmindedly looking around the room, as if he was getting familiar with the place again, and then it dawned on you; he’d been here before. Last weekend, after your drunken make out session that had resulted in him packing you off to bed with a glass of water... Your memories were still hazy, but it was something.

As you washed your hands too, you noticed Seokjin watching down at you with a smile that had you feeling a little uneasy. “What?”

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, but his eyes twinkled more than usual, the last syllable bubbling in his throat as he held back another laugh.

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him something. You didn’t know what, maybe to shut up? But then he shifted, moving in one swift motion to lean in and kiss you.

You made a small shocked noise as he pressed his lips against yours, eyes wide open even though his were fluttered closed, but soon enough you relaxed, settling into his touch as he cupped your hips, yours reaching to grip under his elbows.

He pulled back suddenly, grinning. “This is the best. All I have to do is kiss you and you shut up.”

Huh? “You can’t weaponise kissing, Seokjin,” you scowled.

“Wanna bet?” And he was on you once more, you, miraculously quiet again. His mouth was a little more eager now, presses harder as your lips glided together, and your mind was quickly becoming cloudy. Kissing Seokjin was a little addictive. You couldn’t hate it even if you tried.

“Mhm.” He groaned a little against you, sending your lips tingling. “I swear I just experienced the slowest 3 hours of my life.”

You had to agree. From half 5 to now, you’d been practically counting down the minutes.

“Actually,” he added as an afterthought. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since we had to stop.”

You couldn’t help but smile, fingers lifting to play with the chain around his neck. Since when did he accessorise, and why was it so hot?

“Well, you’re here now,” you said, your voice a little softer than you’d expected it to be, but whatever, Seokjin wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him. You’d leave it slide.

“Come,” he jerked his head in the direction of your living room, taking your hands in his. “Pizza first, you’ll need your energy.”

The wink he gave you was completely uncalled for. Your legs instantly felt a little shaky.

You spent maybe an hour eating and chatting a little. It was a little strange to be having a proper conversation with Seokjin, in light of what you both had been this past six months, but when you thought about it, you’d shared numerous conversations ever since you’d began the Christmas party planning, so it wasn’t too bizarre. Actually, it was nice. You felt less nervous about the obvious direction tonight would soon go.

You scrolled Netflix, choosing Brooklyn Nine-Nine as background noise as you were in the middle of binging the series and it was something light and funny to fill the sometimes small silences that fell between you. Only, Seokjin informed you he’d already watched all available seasons three times and that meant he could recite any given episode on cue. It was slightly endearing watching him go, if not mildly annoying too, but whatever, he was enjoying himself.

You didn’t know who started kissing who soon enough, it might very well have been you. One minute you were sneaking looks his way, checking out his biceps in that sinful sweater and the next you were wrapped up against his body, tongues furiously crashing together. The line had been crossed once again, only this time things were leading somewhere even more exciting.

You were ready for this. You’d showered before he’d arrived, made sure there were no stray hairs poking out of random places on your body – because this afternoon had taken you by surprise, but now you were prepared. You had your sexiest lingerie on, a black lace two piece that you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. It seemed to show more skin than cover it, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You’d even painted your god damn toenails. You wanted to knock his proverbial socks off.

Your phone was on silent, no room for interruptions no matter whose house was on fire. Ana had already been informed of your dick appointment, and while her first instinct had been to gloat, you’d stopped her right in her tracks. You didn’t want to hear it and you didn’t want to hear from her tonight, because she often liked to call you when she was bored – very often.

Tonight you were going to get laid and nothing was going to get in your way. It had been a long six months, and yes, it was sex with Seokjin, but honestly, that just made it better. You thought back to this afternoon, how good it had felt to be touched by him and how hard he’d made you cum. You didn’t want to jinx things, but you had very high hopes for tonight...

“This afternoon feels like a dream,” he confessed against your mouth, taking the moment to pull you onto his lap, his hands snaking their way down to ass to give it a firm squeeze, rolling you into his crotch.

You let out a throaty groan, mouth open, giving him perfect access to lick into it, stealing your tongue to suck the muscle gently. You clutched tightly to the nape of his neck, catching some of the small hairs and he moaned. You were under the impression Seokjin liked having his hair tugged...

“It definitely happened,” you grinned as he pulled away, and you took the opportunity to nibble on his plump bottom lip.

“I don’t know, you’re going to have to remind me...” He gave a throaty chuckle, nudging his hips and you felt the very obvious bulge in his jeans.

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” You laughed at a sudden memory, placing your hands on Seokjin’s chest to ease up. “No one had a clue.”

He held your wrists, keeping you to him as he laughed along. “Not even Jungkook. He was so oblivious.”

“Even with the lame excuse with the cake.”

“Hey,” he whined, “in my defence, I panicked.”

Humming, you leaned in to press against his lips, pulling back before he could part them. “Yeah, we probably should’ve thought of a reason beforehand.” Terrible lack of judgement on your part.

“Do you think?” Seokjin asked rhetorically, impatient as he lunged to kiss you, clasping your arms tight to your side to keep you still until they strayed, caressing your sides, ghosting the sides of your breasts. Your skin felt electric, despite the layers that blocked his touch.

You squealed as he gripped your hips, finding your back flush with the sofa cushions in an instant. Seokjin liked to throw his strength around a lot too it seemed. Not that you were complaining, it was hot, and you spread your legs, letting him nestle between them as his mouth found yours again. You clutched at his shoulders, gasping into the kiss from the sheer want you were feeling.

“Been waiting so long to get my hands on this body,” he grunted against you; leaving you wondering if he meant all day, or longer? The way he was tugging at your mouth with his made you want to believe it was the latter... Ridiculous, but maybe...

Hands riding up your shirt as you moaned in agreement, he made goosebumps appear against your stomach, his fingers glided along the hot skin, and then, suddenly, they were on the buttons of your jeans, fiddling in haste.

Anything more was wasting time, and your stomach leaped with anticipation, knowing you didn’t need to wait much longer. Soon he’d be fucking you. You were beside yourself.

An exasperated sigh stole your attention and you felt Seokjin move, kneeling between your legs, sofa cushions dipping with the weight as he yanked at the waistband of your jeans, a groan leaving him now.

“Why do you insist on wearing sex proof clothing?”

You used your elbows to sit up a little, narrowing your eyes at his dramatics. “They’re jeans, Seokjin. Hardly difficult to take off.” Yes, admittedly there were a few more buttons than usual but they were simple to undo. You reached down, swatting his hands out the way to unfasten them. “There. See.”

You watched his bottom lip stick out slightly, his voice small and annoyed as he spoke. “I wanted to do that.”

“Shut up,” you scoffed lightly, grabbing his arms to tug him back to you. You went to kiss him but he was moving you again, hooking his hands around you waist to prop you up.

His mouth found the crook of your neck, half pinning you to the sofa as his right hand slipped into your jeans, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers found your clit above your underwear, rubbing you firmly a few times before he slid down to your opening, feeling and hearing how wet you’d already become. It had soaked through your panties no issue at all.

Seokjin let out a tight grunt as he felt it, lifting his hand to bypass the lace and feel you for real. It was pretty restricted down there, your jeans still snug around your hips but he made it work, rubbing your whole mound, spreading your arousal.

“I can’t believe I’m going to fuck you...” He murmured, although his voice wasn’t particularly soft, more thick with lust. He was sucking on your earlobe, working out you liked that very much by now and you struggled to gain your bearings. “Be inside you...”

“Mhmm,” you moaned in agreement, the noise breaking in half when you felt him insert a finger inside of you.

Again, room was tight and even though he couldn’t finger you like he wanted he still made it feel amazing – or probably you were just too far gone now. Everything he was doing was driving you wild. You dragged your hands up and down his torso, clinging onto any muscle you came across.

“I swear you haven’t felt nothing yet,” he informed you, mouth tight to your jaw and your moans turned into mild tugs for breath if anything, your head falling back against the edge of the sofa. “Jiin–“

He paused his kisses, his hand following suit trapped in your underwear. “Jin?” He repeated, tilting his head back to meet your eyes, his left eyebrow ever so slightly lifting. “Why did you call me that?”

What was he going on about? You were hot and desperate and here he was suddenly questioning you. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

He looked mildly concerned. “You’ve never called me that before.”

You breathed out a confused laugh. “Am I not allowed? Everyone else calls you it.”

His expression grew softer, sincerity pooling in his words. “You’re not everyone else though. I love it when you call me Seokjin.”

You had to admit you were a little speechless. You knew in the past you’d never used the shortened version of his name because you refused to be friendly with him like everyone else. ‘Seokjin’ held a distance between you, or so you’d thought... In reality it had become something special between you both...

“Fine,” you whispered, pushing your hips into his hand as you moaned lightly, catching his eyes. “Seokjiin.”

He found that funny – you both did, laughing together before you lifted a hand to play with his necklace, giving him a small smile. “Wanna go to my room now?”

You lead him by the hand all the way and he followed you eagerly, eyes hungry. You switched on the lamp by your bed, and safe inside your room he got a little distracted, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar setting, as if he was soaking it all in, but that only lasted for a little while, something, or someone, far more interesting needing his attention. His gaze found you stood at the foot of your bed.

You followed the hand that tugged at his crotch and noticed the now incredibly visible tent inside his jeans. Your gut lurched as he strode towards you. “Come here,” he breathed, reaching for you, and just like that his lips were on yours again. Somehow you ended up in his arms again, his hands firmly cupping your ass as you clung on, moaning into his mouth as your enjoyment started to reach breaking point.

You squealed out his name when you felt him lift his knees to the bed, dropping you down to cage you under his body.

“I got you. Relax,” he chuckled, finding your reaction amusing as you squeezed your fingers into his biceps. A low noise emitted from his throat as he nosed at your neck, mumbling into your skin, “I love feeling you touch me.”

Your heartbeat skyrocketed, sure he could feel your pulse against his lips and you moaned a little too loudly when you felt his teeth bite down on the flesh, continuing his descent down to your collarbones and chest before it became too much and began to tickle you.

“You’re really finding that ticklish?” He asked curiously, lifting his head to catch a look at your face.

You nodded, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you stroked down his arms, a little pleased now that you knew it drove him crazy.

He smirked down at you, his eyes near black. It totally altered his face – his whole demeanour actually. “Do you like a little pain, Y/N?”

He had to see the mild shock on his face, but you quickly composed yourself. Where had that come from? His mouth seemed to run wild when he was turned on, if the storage room was anything to go by, and you found yourself enjoying it immensely. You hooked your hands around his neck as you sat up and he eased away, kneeling straighter. Your teeth reached to nip his bottom lip. “Depends on what kind,” you purred as he hissed at the sensation.

He watched you lean back, never taking his eyes off you as you removed your arms from his neck to pull your shirt over your head. Immediately he stood up, his sweater gone in one swift motion as he dropped it at his feet. You soaked in the view, his torso toned, chest firm. The silver chain hung around his neck, patches of skin flush, revealing his evident arousal.

He tilted his head and smirked. “Like what you see?”

You rolled your eyes. “Cocky much?” But yes, yes you did.

He snorted, laughing pretty loudly as he knelt back on the mattress. “I’m just messing around.”

You couldn’t help but touch him, your hands travelling up his body and across his chest as he crawled over you. He grunted as your lips met and you kissed one another hungrily, more eager now than ever. His hands grazed the cups of your bra and no more than a few moments later he was on one breast, licking and sucking at your nipple, quickly soaking the lace. You moaned loudly, the sensation sending you partially shaky until you had to hold the back of his head, rooting yourself in fear of falling backwards.

His left hand travelled around your back, fingers fumbling with the strap of your bra. “Can I?” He asked, and you strained out a yes.

He broke away from your nipple as he used his other hand to help hook you free. The straps fell lose against your arms and he tugged at the middle of your bra to remove it entirely. His eyes ate you up before cupping the soft flesh in his palms, jaw slack as he flicked his eyes up to yours.

“You have the prettiest tits.”

Slightly abashed by his words but turned on by the way his thumbs rubbed circles against your sensitive nipples, you found yourself chuckling. “That’s good to know.”

“No, really,” he half-awed, reaching to kiss you again. “You’re just... perfect.”

He sounded so sincere it shocked you, made you unsure what to respond. Not that you could anyway, his tongue down your throat again, his body pressed against yours as your urge for him continued to grow.

You were thankful when you felt his hands tug at the waistband of your jeans. “I need to get you fucking naked,” he muttered against your shoulder. You were unable to keep track of his mouth, he was kissing every inch of bare skin he found.

You lifted your ass off the bed, helping him shimmy the fabric down and over your ass before they became jammed at your thighs. Okay, maybe skinny jeans had been a bad idea... He got them down to your knees with quite a struggle, leaning back to yank them off the rest of the way. He nearly fell backwards with the force, irritated eyes finding yours. “I swear to God, you don’t want me to fuck you.”

You tried your best not to laugh, he was putting way too much effort into a simple(ish) task, if he carried on like this you’d have no other option than to think he was incapable at stripping women. Instead, now that you were finally free of your jeans, you spread your thighs, revealing your barely there panties.

“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow. You were now more aroused than ever, the delicate fabric stuck damp to your sex, and Seokjin’s eyes immediately wondered to the sight you’d put on display, his eyes glazing over slightly, darkening with lust.

He stood from the bed suddenly, unzipping his own jeans to remove them too, throwing them to the side with haste. You could easily see the curve of his impressive erection in those tight black boxer shorts and as he crawled back to you, you couldn’t help but cup him, tracing your fingers across the thick length before rubbing him, feeling him push into your touch and groan as his lips pressed into yours.

You pulsed when you felt his hand cup your mound, knowing he could feel the heat that radiated from it instantly. He pinched at the sticky fabric, pulling it back and snapping it against you. Annoyingly, he didn’t seem to take much interest in the underwear as you’d hoped, more concerned about what was underneath, so near enough immediately, he had them gone – successfully this time. His gaze travelled to your nakedness, soaking in the view before he traced the outline of your folds with his fingertips. “You’re literally fucking naked in front of me,” he awed, never once taking his eyes off you.

He had to feel you pulsing beneath him, eager for something more, but he didn’t give you it. “I didn’t think being this wet was possible,” he whispered smugly, eyes flicking over to your face.

You grumbled, although probably more frustrated he was teasing you than by his words. “Stop trying to inflate your ego.”

He chuckled, shifting closer, and then suddenly there was a finger inside you. You sucked in a breath, no time to get accustomed to the sensation as he began fingering you, curling and pressing the long digit against your velvety walls. “Fuck. Seokjin!”

He grinned wolfishly down at you, strands of hair falling into his eyes, but you could still see them twinkling with mirth. “Found another way to shut you up.”

You would’ve scowled if your mouth wasn’t too busy moaning. He was not going to weaponise fingering too...

His actions sped up as he slipped a second digit into you, straightening them as he fucked you with them, sending you splayed out on the mattress as he knelt between your legs. You should’ve maybe felt self-conscious by now, but the pleasure coursing through your body was too distracting. Plus, the way Seokjin watched you, eyes hungrily staring at your breasts jiggling with each snap of his wrist, had you basking in the attention.

You were shocked to find out how close to coming you had been when he abruptly pulled out of you, your body on a come down as shaky breaths wracked throughout you. His mouth was on yours immediately, kissing you messily, shallow breathing. His voice shook as he spoke. “Fuck. I can’t think straight.”

He kneeled up, looking between your legs again as he vigorously rubbed at his dick. “Let me eat you out again.”

He went to dive in, but you stopped him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you sat up. “Wait, you’ve already done that.” As much as you’d loved it and wouldn’t mind a repeat, what was the point in waiting? He was obviously as desperate for you as you were for him. There was no point dragging it out, anymore would just be considered teasing.

You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, running your hand down his chest. He was a little sweaty and you loved it. “Just fuck me. I want to feel you already.”

He looked down at your hand, fingers now toying with the waistband of his underwear and swallowed. “Yeah... Yeah, good idea.”

Standing on the floor, he looked around for his jeans, spotting them near the left side of your bed. You shuffled closer, reaching out to grab his elbow and stop him in his tracks. “Take those off first, I want to get a good look at your ass,” you prompted, gesturing to his underwear.

He looked a little surprised by your request, but listened, giving you somewhat of a bemused smirk as he stripped himself of his boxers. He turned slightly, protecting the fullness of his butt as he reached down for his jeans, but you were more than satisfied with the curve of the flesh you saw. Seokjin always did have a nice looking ass in his work pants – not that you’d been staring, of course...

“I feel like a piece of meat,” he told you, eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, foil packet between his fingers.

“A tasty piece of meat,” you corrected, feeling excited when he sat down on the side of the bed and dropped the condom beside your bodies. You were literally a couple of minutes away from having him inside you, and you quite honestly couldn’t contain yourself.

Crawling into his lap, you hooking your arms around his neck, feeling his wrap around your waist, his cock bouncing slightly against your inner thigh. Pulling you closer he pressed his mouth into yours, his grip firm, kiss passionate. A hand travelled down to your ass, another cupping one breast and he moaned loudly as he pulled away from your lips. “God. I love your body so much.”

You smirked, very much appreciating the praise and as if your body couldn’t help it, you pressed your hips into him, rubbing against his thigh partially.

“You really like to grind,” he commented, looking down between your bodies and that’s when you couldn’t take it any longer, reaching down to wrap your hand around his dick. His hips jumped at the sensation, and you couldn’t help but run your fist up and down the length, feeling the hot, ridged flesh pulse against your grasp.

Condom back between his fingers, you watched him start to tear it open, rushed slightly, his hips absentmindedly jutting up into your hand. Randomly, your eyes caught the writing on the gold square and instantly your mouth became dry.

“What?” Seokjin asked, pausing his movements as he noticed something was wrong. Did your face give it away?

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, tearing your gaze away from the bolded King Size to look down at your hand. Seokjin’s dick almost taunted you. You hadn’t really paid attention to it properly since he’d gotten naked, forgetting the shock you’d felt earlier on in the day when faced with the massive task. Your mouth had accustomed well, but your vagina?! You were getting reservations...

“You really do have a fucking massive dick.”

Seokjin chuckled, angling his head low to kiss your mouth. He knew you’d noticed the text on the condom packet now. “You’ll make him go shy with all these compliments.”

He lifted you in one smooth motion and you found yourself spread on your back, head on the pillow as he hovered over you, sliding the condom on. He held his cock in his hand as he dropped to his knees, tugging it a couple of time just to make sure all was secure and then he leaned in to place a kiss on your shoulder. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmured, rubbing the head if his cock against your sex. You could hear the noise of the latex and you clenched unconsciously, now nervous. “Hm?” He prompted, waiting for a likeminded reply. When you didn’t give him one he lifted his head to look at you, looking a little concerned. “What is it?”

You wrapped your arms around his middle, feeling comforted by the heat of his body and the softness of his skin. It was funny, you didn’t feel embarrassed to confide in him right now, to ask for reassurance. There had been a time, even as far as quite recently, when you had not for even one second wanted to look scared, worried or dumb in front of him. Now that seemed kind of silly...

“You will fit, right?”

“Of course I’ll fit,” he laughed, looking instantly relieved. Had he been expecting something bad?

“You better. I don’t want you breaking my vagina in two.” You warned, chest feeling a little lighter, enough to joke around with him.

“You’re acting like it’s dangling above my knee or some shit.” He repositioned himself, easing his dick away from your heat as he rolled his eyes playfully. The action touched you. Even though he was teasing you, he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable...

Ever so gently, he rubbed the inside of your thigh, his way of reassuring you while also helping you relax. Were you that tense under him? You keened into his touched, loving the way he made you feel.

“You been fucking men with tiny cocks this whole time?” He joked, making you scoff out a small laugh.

“No, just not that... big.”

You expected him to make another joke, something about stroking his ego, but instead he leaned in to kiss you, his hand rubbing circles on your hip now. “I’ll go slow. Don’t be worried,” he reassured. You bucked into him instinctively when you felt his fingers at your entrance. He slid two fingers inside, moving slowly. “I stretched you out pretty good anyway.” He pressed upwards, causing you to moan. “You’ll take it.”

His words made you tingle all over, something kind of vulgar about them that made you not so anxious now. Pulling out, he ran his fist over his length again and you felt a little sorry for him. You didn’t want to keep him waiting anymore. You didn’t want to wait anymore.

Seokjin caught you watching him and smiled, leaning closer. “Yeah?” He asked your permission.

You nodded, crossing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Yeah.” He repositioned himself, sitting taller on his knees as he pushed the tip of his cock up against your entrance. You wanted him closer, reaching for him as you murmured, “Kiss me.”

He listened immediately, moving over your body to meet your lips. He started to push inside, carefully, an inch or so at a time. “Fuck,” he mumbled, as your warmth continued to surround him. “You feel amazing.”

You moaned out in agreement, the stretch nothing but pleasurable as he sunk a little further. You went to look between your bodies, curious.

“No, don’t look down.” He stopped you, kissing your mouth over and over again, distracting you successfully. “Not yet. Wait until I’m fully inside.”

You didn’t know why he was so adamant. Maybe he didn’t want you to potentially freak out and see him pushing that massive ass dick into you, or maybe he just really wanted your first sight to be you stuffed full of him... You moaned at the thought, feeling him push even deeper. God, you loved this feeling.

“Seokjin–!”

His mouth was against your neck now, kissing you softly. “Just a little bit more.” His voice was tight, strained under the increasing pleasure he was feeling, mixed with the urge to delve straight inside.

You planted your feet to the bed, widening your legs just a tad to silently let him know you were more than ready. With one more nudge he slipped all the way in. You knew because you felt his hips press into yours, that and the moan he gave out. “Ngh. Yeah. Shit.”

You looked down, Seokjin’s lips frozen against your shoulder. “Oh, my god,” you whispered, taking in the sight of where your bodies met. You felt incredibly full, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was pleasant. Incredibly pleasant.

“Can’t believe I’m inside you,” he awed next to your ear, and it took you a moment to realise he was staring too.

You cupped his face, sliding your hands around the back of his head to weave your fingers in his hair, grip firm. “Move,” you informed him, needing him to start fucking you immediately before you cried.

He got to work, your hands now travelling the expanse of his back as he rocked his hips into you at a painfully steady pace, the chain on his neck swinging back and forth. His hands were either side of your head on the pillow, his breathing heavy as he cast his gaze down to your eyes. “You literally have the warmest cunt I’ve ever felt.”

Your face heated up immediately, not expecting such an admission and instinctively you dipped your chin. You might’ve really liked it but it was still embarrassing, nonetheless. You heard him chuckle, a hand reaching to cup your cheek, making you look at him again. “What? Not used to guys talking dirty to you?”

“It’s not that.” You shook your head. “I usually don’t like it.” It was true. Nobody had been able to pull it off well in the past, usually feeling cringey and unnatural. But with Seokjin... It made you feel some type of way.

He smirked, although it looked a little strained due to the way he was still thrusting inside you. “That’s because they never did it properly. It’s an art form.”

He was lucky his bragging held up...

You ran your hands down the small of his back, cupping his ass gently as you pushed down with each thrust of his hips. You couldn’t help but moan each time he bottomed out, wriggling under him.

“It feels good, right? Nothing hurts?” He asked, nuzzling his face into the side of yours. You shook your head. “Good.”

With your assurance, he thrust into you hard, causing you to shoot up the bed. You dug your nails into his ass with the shock. “Seokjin—!”

He repeated, slowly pulling out until just the tip of his cock was inside and then slamming back in. “Told you I’ll fit.” He murmured, sliding out again, looking down your body as it shook. “This pussy couldn’t wait for me to fuck it.”

You cried out as he hit deep, even more pleasurable because of his shameless mouth. “Again!” You begged, hands raking up his back now as you attempted to roll your hips into his, but it was no use, he had you pinned down, held prisoner by his dick.

“Patience, baby,” he purred against your ear. “It’s not a race.”

Your breath shook. There it was, that word again. When he was inside you like this, it didn’t sound half as bad.

Despite his comment, he gradually started to speed up, straightening his back to fuck you harder, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you planted, although you couldn’t help but grind your hips into him, chasing more and more. When his fingers brushed over your clit, you fluttered your eyes closed, brows furrowed.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed, soft moans leaving your mouth involuntary, enjoying the sensation of him circling your clit.

“Yeah? Gonna cum?” He asked – more like goaded. Your skin prickled, his tone setting you alight. “Gonna cum all over my dick?”

You let out a strangled cry, squeezing around him, your thighs spreading further, desperate to feel him deeper. Grunting, he leaned over your body, snapping his hips harder, his motions against your clit firmer, the pads of all four fingers rubbing tight circles.

“You feel so fucking good.” He groaned. “Tell me how much you love it. Don’t be shy.”

Once again you felt your cheeks heat up, reluctant despite how good he was making you feel.

“Y/N.” He commanded gently, and you slowly found his gaze, jaw slack. “Let me know how you’re feeling. How much you love me fucking you.”

You wanted to. You really wanted to. It was only fair given how much he was praising you too. There was nothing wrong with him wanting you to stroke his ego right now, despite how unaccustomed you were to dirty talking.

“I love it so much,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop. You’re going to make me cum.”

Not that you could label that as dirty talk... You sounded a little awkward, cringing at yourself, but Seokjin seemed to like it, dropping lower to kiss you, grunting into your mouth. You felt encouraged enough to continue. You weaved your fingers in his hair, loving the sound of his panting. “Seokjin, please make me cum. You feel so fucking amazing. I love your dick, don’t stop fucking me.”

His hips stuttered as he processed your words and then he growled, kickstarting them again – much harder. “That’s a dangerous thing to ask, Y/N,” he warned, breaking away from your mouth to stare down at you, expression dark. Each thrust sent your headboard into the wall.

“You want me to keep fucking you even after you cum?”

“Oh, god,” you moaned as he slammed into you, his fingers against your clit unrelenting. “Ye-ss! You can fuck me all night if you like.”

“Don’t,” he whined, his face dropping into the crook of your neck before he growled again, flinging himself up.

Still on his knees between your thighs, he lifted one of your legs up, hooking it casually over his shoulder, fingers on his left hand digging into the meat of your thigh. You spread your other leg, resting it on top of his knee, his right hand holding you flat until he found your clit again, two fingertips stroking it steadily.

Your thighs started to shake, the rest of your body tense as your middle jerked up against his touch. He kept fucking you, stopping each time he was fully inside of you to grind against your insides.

“Seokjin, I want to—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, pleasure too strong. You were so tense your release seemed like it would never come.

“Just let go. Cum.” He told you, his voice tight, neck strained. “Just think of how good I’m making you feel. You’re so wet, I’m sliding everywhere.”

You could hear yourself, squelching with each snap of his hips and circle of his fingers. Suddenly he slapped down with his hand, not especially hard, but it made your body jerk, a cry of surprise leaving you. “Seokjin, fuck.”

He instantly went back to playing with your clit, you pulsed red hot. “You like that, baby?” He purred, voice low, rolling his dick inside you at a deadly rhythm. “You’re such a fucking tease.” He smirked. “Knew you’d be dirty, or do I just bring out that side of you?”

All you could do was moan, the shock of his palm against your core still zapping up your body, your hips moving with his, urging him to keep going because you were so close, teetering over the edge. Pushing his body weight into you, still gripping your leg against his chest, you sunk further into the mattress.

“Just concentrate on how my cock feels.” He helped you along, words flying out of his mouth as you squeezed around his cock tightly. “How my fingers feel. I really want to make you cum.” He groaned loudly, determination in his tone. “Soak me.”

“Fuck.” This was it, you could feel the build-up of your orgasm cresting. “Seokjin, I’m—!” You broke off with a moan as pleasure engulfed you. “Coming. I’m coming.”

Your body stiffened, foot trembling above his shoulder, but Seokjin kept fucking you through the waves that wracked through you, his fingers against your clit easing up slightly, careful not to overstimulate you. Your head was spinning as you started to feel your orgasm gradually wane, warmth flowing through your veins as your limbs started to relax again. You gasped for breath, amazed by what had just happened. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d come like that... if ever.

Seokjin’s hips slowed down, carefully dropping your leg to the bed as he eased up and crawled over you, mouth finding yours, your tongues meshing together sloppily. You wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist and tugged him closer. He was still inside you, not moving, but that soon changed as you started to roll your hips into his. You still wanted him, orgasm only making you hornier, however possible that was.

“I-I can carry on?” He asked thickly, shallowly fucking inside of you now, pace uneven.

“Please,” you murmured against his ear. “I said don’t stop.”

He groaned, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before knocking into you harder, slow but calculated. He felt bigger inside of you, the result of your walls tightening, but you loved it, your fingers playing with the chain at the nape of his neck. The metal was cool, a big difference to his skin which was hot and slick with his sweat.

“Not too hard?” He asked, grunting with each thrust.

You pulled him to you closer, ignoring the way his pelvis rubbed against your core, still a little sensitive. “Fuck me however hard and fast you like.” Running your hands along his muscular back you felt him shiver, a tight whine escaping his lips as your words got to him. You felt pretty chuffed.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Seokjin. You’re so good at this.” You praised, words falling from you naturally and unprompted.

His brain didn’t seem to be functioning anymore, unable to respond to you, the feeling of his impending orgasm too distracting, but he moaned at your words, face falling to your shoulder as he just. Kept. Fucking. You. His thrusts were hard, but not as calculated as before. You could tell by the way he was breathing he was close, his grunts muffled but still audible.

“Gonna–gonna c–”

You could hear that too, feel the way his body stiffened instantly, and he rammed deep inside you, waiting for the first spill of cum. You gripped him tight, loving the way his body shook as he came, and you welcomed each tremor as his cum filled the condom.

“Oh, my fuck,” he gasped, the last surge the strongest, and you suppressed the giggle that wanted to escape your throat. He was pretty speechless, you guessed. “Shit. Fuck. Shit.”

He laid on top of you for a few moments, catching his breath while muttering expletives into your skin. You liked being weighted down by his body, you couldn’t describe it, it just felt good.

“Seokjin?” You questioned, turning your head as much you could to rouse him. His back was all clammy, the hairs against the back of his neck damp with sweat.

He slowly lifted himself up, hands pressing into mattress. “I think my brain just blew to pieces.” Blowing air out of his mouth, he noticed his lips were wet. He brought a hand up to feel. “I fucking dribbled.” He chuckled, wiping himself clean.

“Hot,” you teased, watching him roll off you and remove the soiled condom, tying a knot at the top. He sat up, looking around for your trashcan before spotting one near your closet. It gave you a great view of his ass when he walked over to throw it away.

You rolled onto your side as he came back, joining you on the bed, stretching his arm behind his head as he looked over at you, a smugness to his face. “I don’t want to take all the credit but I’m pretty sure that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

You shrugged casually, trying your best not to smile. “Yeah, I’d rate it like an 8/10.”

“Hey,” he exclaimed incredulously.

“I’m messing around.” You laughed, your hand reaching to play with his necklace, your eyes skimming down his torso. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, stealing a small kiss.

You nodded. “I kinda want to go again...”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t want me to leave?”

Laughing, you hit his chest playfully. “Did you imagine I’d kick you out straight away or something?”

“No,” he insisted, looking a little embarrassed. “I just... I don’t know.” He looked really happy that wasn’t the case though. As if you’d kick him out after that performance. You were making the most out of tonight…

You laid your head down on the pillow, still looking at him, weirdly uncaring that you were still naked. “You have more condoms on you, right?”

“I came prepared – just in case.” He felt the urge to add, not seeming to care his junk was still out at all. “Do you want to go again right now?”

You chuckled. “Give it a little while. You wore me out.” Although, you’d be highly impressed if he was able to go for round two immediately.

“Sure,” he agreed, folding his other hand behind his head too, Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “I could do with a nap.”

A nap definitely sounded good right about now. You tapped his chest, sitting up. “Let me pee first.”

Standing, you grabbed the gown draped over your wicker chair and slipped in on. Not before Seokjin snuck a glance though, groaning to himself and burying his face into the bed as if he couldn’t go on any longer.

“Ugh, your body.”

You woke up to a phone ringing. It sounded like it was coming from the floor because you could hear vibrations against the wood. Seokjin groaned and then slipped from under you, letting your head down gently to rest on the pillow.

Once you’d come back from the bathroom you’d immediately jumped under the covers, feeling it cold now and encouraged Seokjin to follow. You’d cuddled for a little bit, your head on his chest and before long you’d fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been that long ago, and one look at your alarm clock as Seokjin searched for his phone in his jeans, told you it was half past midnight.

“Who was it?” You asked sleepily, hearing it ring off just as he grabbed it.

“Jungkook.”

“Why is he calling so late?”

Seokjin put the phone down on your dresser and got back into bed, wrapping his arms around you. He was still naked, the thought got you a little excited.

“Probably gonna ask if I want to play a game of League.” Video games at this time? What was he, still in high school? You halted your judgement though, settling back against his chest.

“I’ll just pretend I was asleep,” he shrugged.

“You were asleep.”

There was a pause, and then you felt his hand travel to ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You still had your gown on, but it was thin, and you could feel the heat of his palm easily. “I’m awake now,” he murmured. “Are you?”

“I guess so,” you teased, nudging your pelvis into his thigh ever so gently, silently giving him the go ahead.

“I’ll tell Jungkook I was a little preoccupied then...”

You lifted your head, looking unimpressed. “Don’t you dare.”

Laughing loudly, he leaned in to kiss you. “As if he’d believe me.” You weren’t particularly listening though, too busy getting addicted to his mouth again.

You soon found yourself on top of him, his dick hard against your stomach as you made out furiously , his fingers brushing against the lips of your entrance, teasing you.

He pulled his head back, a boyish grin on his face. “Can you ride me this time?”

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:final sleigh #drabbles:final sleigh #final sleigh:drabbles

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Clipped wings♕yandere!prince!jjk

♮ 18+ ♮ xtremity: 4 ♮ pairing: prince jjk x female reader ♮ genre: soft smut, light angst, royal au, soft yandere ♮ word count: 7.7k ♮ warnings: light angst, soft yandere, possessive behavior, stockholm syndrome themes, soft smut, virgin!reader, oral(f), fingering, praise ‘dirty’ talk, unprotected sex/creampie.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for so long and here he finally is. I want to thank @ppersonna for being my soft smut aid, I couldn’t have finished this without you. And thank you @chimoona for being a good support to keep me from throwing this fic into the trash can at several occasions. ily or something. Also thank you to my dear @carly-bean-blog for helping me out with this gorgeous banner. chu♡

It was a late night, the darkness illuminated by the continuous lightning strikes flashing, rain pouring down so hard that it was hard to see further than a few meters ahead.

It was the worst thunderstorm in history, you were sure of it.

Unfortunately, you were in the midst of it, lost in the woods as you tried to navigate your way back to town.

But to no avail, you were completely disoriented, panic rushing through your spine as you felt your clothes getting heavier, soaked by the cold rain.

Aimlessly wandering for shelter, you end up in a large garden, following the trail of flowers until you reach two grand doors. You look up, palms placed flat on the surface, your eyes squinting to get a better look of it. You couldn’t see very well, but this was a very large building-- A castle?

Another strike of lightning sparked in the sky, the silhouette of the castle visible for a split second, and you gasp, startled from the roaring sound. In the midst of it, you decide to knock three times on the wooden doors.

A long moment passes, until you take a step back when the two doors slowly creaked open. Keeping one hand over your face to shelter your eyes from the rain, you’re able to distinguish the frame of a man standing by the doorway,

‘‘Who may this be?’’

Must be a butler, his voice deep and smooth. He didn’t look very pleased, however.

‘‘I-I just.... I’m lost, and-’‘

‘‘I’m sorry, we are unable to help. Unless you have business with the prince, you must leave immediately.’‘

You took a step closer, a frown on your face, ‘’You’re going to leave me here in the cold? It’s pouring!’’

The butler didn’t move, but his eyes were apologetic, ‘’I’m sorry, ma’am.’’

‘‘I’ll die from the cold!’‘ You pleaded. It felt partially true, you were freezing, soaked and lost. How could one be so heartless?

The butler pursed his lips, as if he was trying to find a solution, ‘’Then... step inside for a moment.’’ he ushered for you to get inside just far enough for you to be sheltered by the building, closing the doors behind you before he strides through the hall towards a room, ‘’Wait there, I will be back shortly.’’

So, you did. You waited, for what felt like forever.

Until finally, the footsteps of the butlers heeled boots echoed through the large hallway was heard as he returned, a vague smile on his lips as he bowed at you,

‘‘The prince would like to see you.’‘

You tilted your head to the side, ‘’He would?’’

The butler nods, ushering for you to follow behind him, so you do.

When reaching the next large door, the butler opens them before stepping to the side, announcing your presence, ‘’She’s here, my lord.’’

You walk in, unsure of what to say or do, jumping where you stand as the doors slam shut behind you, leaving you alone with this.... prince.

‘‘Who are you?’‘ His smooth voice snapped your attention towards the man standing by the window, back facing you.

From what you could see, he was very young. A lot younger than you expected, probably around your age if you weren’t mistaken.

He had raven hair, a form fitted suit showcasing his perfectly sculpted proportions, a slim waist with broad shoulders.

Please, let him at least have a less attractive face.

The prince turned around slowly, a wine glass swirling in his hand while the other was stuffed deep down the pocket of his suit pants.

Of course he was beautiful.

‘‘Let me ask you again,’’ he said, taking one sip from his wine as he slowly sauntered over to you, the echoing of his heels clacking against the floor prominent in the grand room, ‘’Who are you? And what do you want?’’

Your eyebrows were drawn together, gaze following him as he circled around you like some kind of predator eyeing its prey.

‘‘I’m Y/N. I simply wish for shelter from the storm until it passes, then I will be on my way.’’

The prince hummed, his eyes drawn to the liquid in his glass as he’s in thought,

‘‘And why should I grant you this wish?’‘

What? Wish?

‘‘Are you serious?’‘ You grew annoyed, crossing your arms over your chest. Ah, your clothes were cold... Looking at him, your eyes were annoyed, yet pleading, ‘‘It’s a very bad storm, I can’t go back out...’‘

‘‘Then what do you offer?’‘ He glanced back up at you with a serious face.

What could you possibly offer a prince? He had everything he could ever desire.

But, you did have one thing that could not be bought...

‘‘I could sing for you.’‘

The prince’s eyes widened, he didn’t expect that out of all things you could’ve offered. ‘’Huh? I mean...What?’’

Now he’s the one speechless. huh.

‘‘Yes,’‘ You take one daring step forward, ‘‘I’m not rich, nor do I have anything of... value to give. But.. I can sing. Isn’t it awfully quiet in this large castle all by yourself?’‘

He rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek, placing the glass down on the nearby desk before crossing his own arms over his chest. ‘’Go on then. Sing for me.’’

His command causes you to take a deep breath, giving him a short nod. God, you wish you would’ve been able to change into dry clothes first... Hopefully, this would be enough for him to let you stay, and maybe even accommodate some dry fabrics for your freezing body.

Jungkook leaned against his desk, fingers thrumming against his bicep as they were crossed. He wasn’t expecting much, honestly. But, he was truly bored-- why not mess with this strange girl before throwing her out?

But, he spoke too soon, and his premature judgement backfired. As soon as you cleared your throat, a shaky tune escaped your parted lips. With every word you sang, your voice got steadier and more secure in your abilities. The cold was less of a bother as the piercing, fixated gaze of the prince heated your entire being.

He was absolutely mesmerized by your voice, his lips fell slightly agape, his body stiffening. He expected nothing special, but this... It was probably-- no, it was without a doubt the most beautiful sound he’s ever been blessed with. It touched his soul, his heart pounded beneath his rib cage so hard it felt like it would burst, eyes now focused on your effortless beauty despite your messy damp hair and soaked clothes. You were way beyond physical beauty.

He’d already made his decision by now.

‘‘Enough.’‘ The prince had closed the distance between the two of you, his body standing right in front of yours. You hadn’t noticed that he came up to you until your eyes opened, breath hitched at his close proximity. Your doe eyes stared up at him, his own dark orbs swirling with an unnamed emotion.

‘‘S-so...?’‘ You whisper, hoping that it was enough for him to let you stay the night.

He smiled softly, reaching to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. ‘‘I’ll need you to sing for me once more,’‘ He paused to snap his fingers, the maid that you didn’t even notice was in the room ushers you out of the room to lead you to your own.

Jungkook wanted to hear it again. And again... And again… For the rest of eternity.

~ ~ ~

The following morning you felt well rested, the large bed and dry nightgown provided worked wonders. Peering around the room, you realized that you’d possibly overstayed your welcome, the sun shining through the large... locked and barred window? Odd. Safety precautions, supposedly.

You pushed the bedspread away from your body to stand up, heading towards the door to leave.

It was locked.

‘’What the..?’’

You were in disbelief, jerking the handle once, twice. It wouldn’t budge. You were locked in.

‘’Hello?... I can’t get out! Open the door!’’ You yelled through the keyhole, fist slamming against the wooden surface of the door, hoping that somebody in the large castle would hear you.

As soon as you were about to slam your hand against the door once more, it suddenly opened. It was the kind butler, handing you a stack of clean clothes and an apologetic smile.

‘’The prince has instructed for you to join him for dinner this evening,’’ He pauses to make sure you’re keeping up, his lopsided smile still present, ‘’Please put this on before then. I will return when it is time.’’

He puts the fabrics in your hands before you’re able to even think of a response, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

‘’Wait-- Why was the door locked?’’ You pleaded for an answer, but the butler avoided the question, and simply took a step back before slowly closing the door, the expression on his eyes nothing but penitent.

You couldn’t believe what was happening, eyes widening as you dropped everything to the floor, attempting once again to open the door, but within the same second the click of the lock striked the room, and the fading sound of footsteps leaving in the hallway.

What were you supposed to do the entire day?

And why did the prince want you to stay for dinner?

And for god's sake, why on earth were you locked in? You thought the prince wanted you out as soon as humanly possible. Nothing made sense.

A defeated sigh pushed through your lips as you picked up the clothes that you’d dropped, heading over to place them on the bed. You wonder if the prince himself had personally picked out this ensemble for you. Not that it mattered. You lift the cloth to inspect the dark purple fabrics, a cocktail style dress… and honestly… you’d lie if you said it wasn’t beautiful.

~ ~ ~

The evening finally arrived, and you actually had gotten ready in lack of anything else to do, dress on with the matching shoes-- even the little bracelet provided, a small silver dangle attached shaped like a little bird. You figured, you might as well oblige to the prince’s wishes, and hopefully you’d be able to leave after this… dinner.

Meanwhile, Jungkook had made sure that everything was up to his expectations; the grand table filled with a variety of delicacies. He circled the table several times, sharp eyes observing that every single detail was up to par. And it was, he hummed in content before his gaze landed on his butler. ‘’Bring the lady, make sure she’s dressed for the occasion.’’

‘’Yes, my lord.’’

~ ~ ~

A firm knock on the door caught your attention as you were observing yourself in the large mirror. Suddenly, you almost felt nervous-- jittery. Taking a deep breath, you head towards the door, waiting for whoever is behind it to open it for you. ‘’Are you dressed?’’ The deep voice on the other side muttered.

‘’Yes.’’ As soon as you voiced your reply, the door swung open, this time a boxy smile adorning the butlers face instead of the crooked one you’d almost gotten used to. It was nice to see he had any other expression than a gloomy one.

You were guided downstairs to the dining hall. As soon as you entered through the two large doors, you felt so incredibly small. You jumped when the doors were slammed shut behind you, and a sudden hand gently placed on your lower back to usher you to your seat.

Jungkook crooked his eyebrow at the butler's daring move and gave him a warning glare as he pushed your seat in behind you.

‘’Welcome, Y/N.’’ Jungkook clasped his hands on the table, leaning forward as his eyes roamed down the outfit you’d put on… The attire he’d chosen especially for you. His gaze landed on the small bracelet on your wrist, the silver bird dangle beautifully decorating you like a piece of art.

‘’Thank you..’’ You replied, a bit unsure of this situation. But you decided to enjoy it. Why not? It’s not everyday that you’d get to dine with royalty. All this food smelled heavenly. Jungkook snapped his fingers, and on cue the butler poured your wine, while the maid put food on your plates. When he was satisfied, he told them to leave the room and wait outside.

Jungkook wanted utter privacy with you.

‘’What do you think of this?’’ Jungkook asked, gesturing around the room; but he meant everything. The castle.

‘’It’s divine,’’ You answered truthfully as you sipped your wine to wash down the food, ‘’Is it just you here?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ He nodded, a small smile on his lips. It almost looked sad, ‘’If you don’t count my servants.’’

The dinner was pleasant, surprisingly. There wasn’t much conversation, but a simple comfortable silence with the occasional comment about the delicious cuisines that were offered. While you were gazing around the room, chewing your food in content, Jungkook’s eyes were completely transfixed on you. The way your nose scrunched slightly from the bitter aftertaste of the wine. The way you continuously placed strands of your hair behind your ear, to just how enchanting you looked in the attire he’d dressed you in.

He felt lucky that he found you. Or rather, you found him. It couldn’t be anything but fate. Jungkook believed it. He stayed this way for a while, enjoying the silent admiration he was giving you. He hadn’t had this kind of company… Ever. It was new, and he didn’t want to let it go. Suddenly the silence felt suffocating.

‘’Sing for me.’’ Jungkook asked softly, swirling the wine glass in his hand. His eyes followed the flow of the liquid for a second before shifting his piercing gaze to your face.

You stopped yourself from questioning him, knowing he knows that you heard him the first time. But that didn’t mean your eyebrows weren’t raised in surprise. ‘’Okay.’’ After all, he had told you that he wanted to hear you sing one more time.

Jungkook’s doe eyes sparkled in awe as he leaned back in his chair, completely forgetting about the glass in his hand. He couldn’t even think, just listen-- and stare at you the second you got up from your chair and sing. The way your lips moved with every word, his eyes followed. The small gestures of your hands made him want to hold them. And the brightness in your eyes that he hadn’t noticed before, had his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

This is it. She’s the one.

While you sang, he’d slowly gotten up from his seat, placing the glass on the table to leave it behind. Approaching you, his hands reached out to grab your wrist and pull you close to his chest. Your singing stopped with a surprised yelp, staring at the little bracelet he was observing as he held your wrist up for the two of you to view.

‘’You know what this is?’’ He asked, grasping the little dangle decoration between his thumb and index finger.

‘’A dove?’’ You said, a bit confused as to what he meant. It was obviously a dove.

‘’Correct,’’ He chuckled, the endearing smile of his growing, ‘’A symbol of peace.’’ A piece of peace in Jungkook’s world.

You hum in agreement, still not sure what he’s implying. Trying to pull your wrist away, he willingly let go, but replaced the empty spot in his palm by placing it on your waist. This was awfully close, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

‘’I-- thank you for the dinner… But, I should really get going now.’’ You glanced towards the window, seeing the sun shining bright, ‘’The storm has passed.’’

Jungkook’s smile faltered at your words, slowly morphing into a frown when you stepped away from his grasp. His hands fell to his sides, looking at you as if you had just torn his heart out of his chest. But you didn’t notice. ‘’Don’t leave.’’

You were on your way to the door, hand grasping the handle before his words stopped you, causing you to look over your shoulder at the prince. Silence filled the room, and the air grew thicker.

‘’I have to leave. I can’t stay here. I need to go home.’’

Jungkook sighed, clenching his jaw as he stared at the floor. He almost looked like a child throwing a tantrum when they didn’t get what they wished for. ‘’You can’t.’’ He murmured.

‘’Watch me.’’ You huffed, jerking the door open before stepping out into the grand hall, striding towards the door with a made up mind. You were going home, you shouldn’t get used to this lifestyle. It was only for one night. You made it to the grand entrance, pushing with your entire body strength and pulling at the handle-- but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked. Your eyes searched for a way to unlock it, you were inside of the building after all. Why couldn’t you open it?

‘’Y/N..’’ Jungkook startled you, appearing behind you so suddenly. His voice was calm, arms crossed over his chest. A concerned look played on his face.

‘’Why is the door locked?’’ You asked, confusion obvious in your expression as you let go of the handle to turn to him.

‘’I told you, you can’t leave.’’ He sighed, clacking his tongue in annoyance. Why didn’t you get it?

‘’Why?’’

‘’I want you to stay… Be my little bird.’’

‘’What… what do you mean ‘little bird’?’’

‘’Sing for me, always.’’ The look in his eye was serious, yet gentle. He stepped closer, reaching out to delicately take your hands in his own, ‘’I will take care of you, everything you need is right here. Anything you want. Just please be mine.’’

Your mouth fell open, unable to speak or think of any witty comment to counter with. His words were sincere, the vulnerability in his expression along with his delicate touch had your heart skip a beat.. Or stop completely-- you weren’t sure. The logic in you told you no, this couldn’t be. He couldn’t love you this quickly, and neither could you. But your heart pumped these new emotions throughout your body, clouding any sense of what should and shouldn’t-- any logic thrown out the window. A part of you that grew with every second spent drowning in his dark eyes, your body decided to make the decision for you with a vague nod.

‘’Say it.’’ Jungkook urged, his eyes sparkling with a layer of tears. Were they happy? Sad? Maybe both. He wanted to hear your sweet voice confirm, his own chest so tight it was hard to breathe. He squeezed your hands in his, ‘’Say you’ll be mine.’’

‘’I… I can’t say that yet.. I’m sorry.’’ You whispered, and you swore you could hear his heart audibly crack. But it was okay, he mused. You didn’t reject him-- but you didn’t accept him in your heart yet. All you needed was time.

‘’Y/N…’’ Jungkook pulled you closer to his chest, brushing your hair away from your face. As he spoke, his warm comforting breath fanned your lips, ‘’It’s okay, you don’t have to say it yet. Just… Stay with me.’’

You nodded, feeling your own eyes sting with the tears building up from his heavy emotions rubbing off on you. He smiled softly, palm carefully placed on your cheek to draw you in, closing the distance between your lips in a sweet kiss.

All he needed was patience.

~ ~ ~

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months spent in his castle. You hadn’t taken a single step outside since that stormy night, and it was as if you’d forgotten what grass felt like underneath your feet. However, the times he allowed you to sit with him on his balcony, the warm sun and chill breeze would bring you enough peace to satiate your need for the freedom you were robbed of.

It was complicated, the way you felt. Spending every single day with the prince, you’d gradually fallen for him, and become close enough for you to even start calling him by his first name. He spoiled you with everything you could ever want; clothes, jewelry, endless amounts of books and pretty things, flowers. He showered you in his affection, a large smile constantly on his face whenever he gave, gave and gave to you. He saw how you slowly opened up to him, and it made him so happy; nobody had ever seen the lonely prince this way before.

But at times when he wasn't home, out attending to his duties, you suddenly felt lonely. You had time to think about everything, and it scared you how much you missed Jungkook. However, what you had started to miss even more was your freedom… The life you had before you met the prince.

It was clear that you weren’t allowed to leave, every window was barred, and every door was locked. It was impossible. No matter, because at this point you were scared to live without him. You couldn’t.

So you opted for the one thing you knew, the one thing you had that was in your control.

You stood by your window, watching the birds chirp and fly by, feeling the warmth of the sun rays beaming at your skin in stripes through the bars. You sang your heart out.

In the beginning, your singing was bright and full of life, proud of how Jungkook admired your voice.

But lately, your tune was laced with melancholy.

~ ~ ~

Jungkook heard your voice as he strode through the hallway, feeling his heart jump at the beautiful sound. Lately, your voice had gotten more and more bewitching. He was obsessed with the sadness in your vocals. He carefully peeked in through the crack of the door as he opened it, and the sight before him was breathtaking. You looked like a goddess with the sun glowing on your skin, eyes closed as you were completely indulged in your song.

He loved you so much, nothing or nobody could ever compare, nor could anybody intervene. You were his, kept safe in this castle for the rest of your life.

After a long moment of admiring you, Jungkook finally opened the door to step inside, quietly strolling over to stand behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands settle on your stomach as he pressed his chest against your back, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. Your singing ceased, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden appearance. Just as quickly as your body tensed up, it relaxed in his embrace.

“You sing so pretty, my little dove,” he cooed into your ear as he held you tight. His hands splayed against your stomach and rubbed gently, carefully and slowly moving upwards. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your body tingle with a mixture of fright and excitement, warmth blooming where his hands trailed.

Jungkook turned you in his arms, pressed his chest against yours as his fingers caressed the side of your delicate face, a loving smile on his lips. He moved slowly, with intention, towards the plush bed behind you. His eyes never left yours, peering into them as if he could see your inner most desires. It made your body feel engulfed in flame.

“Please, let me have you,” the prince asked. His voice was sweet, pleading and desperate. He guided you towards the bed and the press of the firm mattress behind your knees made you fall with a soft gasp escaping your lips. “I need you, my love. I need to taste you, please.”

You found it hard to say no, hard to say anything at all despite the warnings sounding in your head. As confused by him and this entire situation as you were, you couldn’t help the magnetic pull you felt when he held you close, or the way your heart throbbed when he was around.

“Y-yes,” you replied, voice timid.

His body hovered over you, lips inches from your own and you felt your body press further and further into the bed as he encroached over you.

“Yes, what, little bird?” He asked. His voice was light��sensitive and loving. His eyes spoke volumes. He looked at you as if he wanted to claim every inch of you, make you his physically and emotionally for the rest of his life.

You swallowed hard as you lied down, head resting on the soft pillows, as your eyes connected with his. Any doubt had slowly left you as the warmth of his body seeped into your clothes and into your very core. It felt like a fire was building, growing larger and more intense, in the center of your thighs.

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

Your answer pleased the prince—he moved down further until his lips connected with yours. His hips pressed into your own and you could feel his hard length against you—making you gasp into his kiss.

It spurred Jungkook on, his tongue taking advantage and sliding into your open mouth to caress and lick at your own tongue. He moaned lightly at the taste of you, so sweet and perfect—just like you. He wanted to taste it for the rest of his life, have the sweet essence of you on his tongue every single night. He was sure if your mouth tasted so sweet, your drenched folds would taste even better.

“Let me see you,” he whispered as he pulled away from your honeyed lips. “Please.”

His voice was so desperate--so full of love and desire for you that the fire within you blazed higher. It was becoming harder and harder to resist the prince at all, and you found yourself wondering why you ever resisted in the first place.

After receiving your consent in the form of a nod, Jungkook pushed the fabric of your dress up from your thighs. His strong hands smoothed over the soft, plush skin and you shivered at the feeling of his warmth that lingered where he touched. He continued pushing the dress up until it exposed your stomach and core to him.

His eyes explored every inch of your body. He was mesmerized by the way your stomach curved and your hips swelled. Your body was finer than any of the paintings in his castle, more valuable than the jewels glittering in his reserves. His breath came out heavier as his vision trailed to the linen of your panties, the very ones he provided for you. Jungkook loved the way you looked in the clothes he picked especially for you--his gorgeous, little songbird.

Your hands clutched at the bunched material of your dress and you desperately sought to take it off, expose yourself fully to the handsome prince above you. Your body squirmed as he continued drinking you in, hurrying to take the rest of the fine dress off your body. Jungkook noticed your discomfort, and moved to help you pull the dress up and over your head. The gesture was sweet, so sweet it felt like an ache in your heart and your core.

Jungkook threw the garment aside, no care for the price or quality of the dress. His only care was you, now nearly naked and pliant underneath him. If he thought the hills and valleys of your thighs were mesmerizing, he was wholly unprepared for the sight of your breasts.

He could feel his mouth drying up as he watched your nipples prickle in the chill of the castle’s air. He was sure he stopped breathing as he watched your chest rise and fall with each deliberate breath you brought in and expelled. He felt his tongue dart out of his mouth to moisten his lips, eyes glued to the pretty pink nubs of your breasts.

“My dove,” he gasped.

Your eyes were wide, pupils blown with a mixture of anxiety and lust, and your hands sought to grab at the cloth of his shirt.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whined softly. Being so exposed, so vulnerable to the man above you made you needier by the second. You were sure you couldn’t stand another minute under his intense gaze without him touching you somewhere, anywhere.

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed at the sound of his name rolling off your sweet tongue. He felt his body nearly tremble, and he knew he needed to hear it for the rest of his life. There was no way he could let you go now, now that he would have you fully.

“What do you need, my love?” He asked as he smoothed a hand over your delicate stomach and up towards your ribs. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give you everything you could ever want.”

Your back arched off the bed as his warm hand pursued up your body until it summited the crest of your breast. He marveled at the way his hands fit over the soft globes, and how perfectly they fit in his palms. He knew you were made for him--that you were the only one meant to be with him. Everything about you reminded him that you were made for him.

His fingers pinched at a nipple and he sighed as he heard your soft, gentle squeak at the pinch. His stomach tightened painfully, and his cock strained hard against the linen of his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself between your plush thighs, but he knew he needed to to worship you, to make you feel like the princess you would soon become.

In one swift movement, his head bowed down piously to pull a nipple into his mouth while his fingers maintained pressure on the other. He moaned around the bud in his lips, the way it felt against his tongue and the sweet flavor of your skin. Your keening gasps and sighs encouraged him, making him suck the nub in further and tongue swirl around it.

Your body felt grazed with tiny pinpricks of pleasure, electrifying you down to your veins. You have never felt such pleasure in your life, never knowing the touch of a man. But you’re sure that no man could compare to the way the prince felt above you, pressing his worshipful kisses to your breasts.

Jungkook switched to your other breast, frenzied to taste and consume you--every last inch. He fervidly licked at your prickled nub before he pulled it into his mouth and allowed his tongue to explore and pleasure it.

“J-Jungkook!” You gasped at the feeling. His other hand rubbed and pinched at your abused nipple so well it made your legs tremble.

He popped off your breasts but maintained his grip on you with his hands, a toothy smile brightening his features as he peered at you.

“Yes, my dove?” He asked as innocently as he could. He knew this action was driving you mad. He could tell by the way your hips bucked and swayed that your channel would be slick and burning with desire by now.

“More, please,” you begged. “I need you to take me.”

Jungkook kissed his way down your sternum, lavishing kisses at your navel and skin of your thighs. He wanted no part of you left untouched, unclaimed by him. He meant to have you in every sense of the word. The prince was determined to ensure every single part of you was conquered by him, and him only.

Jungkook was eager to get the remaining fabric off you. His deft fingers swiped at your covered slit, smiling as he felt the wetness pooling there. He hummed deep in his throat as he made himself comfortable between your thighs. Jungkook noticed how comfortable, how natural it felt to be between your thick thighs. He wanted to leave marks all over them, physical reminders of his claim of you.

You stirred gently, awkwardly, at the intense gaze that the prince was holding with your barely covered decency. His stare was intense--it fanned the flames within you, making them lick hotly at every inch of your being.

Jungkook tugged at the thin fabric between your thighs, pulling it down your legs gently, as if he was unwrapping the finest and most delicate china. His breath caught in his throat as he threw them to the side and your centre became exposed to him. You bloomed below him like the most beautiful rose, petals opening and slick with arousal. His tongue sought out of his mouth, anxious for a taste of what he was sure to be the most delicious nectar.

“My beautiful,” he sighed as his hands pressed your legs further apart. You whimpered gently, the feeling of the cold air rolling over your heated body was nearly driving you insane. Jungkook stared at you as if you were his final, mortal meal. Jungkook nearly salivated at the sound and the way your legs trembled with need--...need for him.

His face inched closer and close, desperate to be buried face first in your pretty cunt, but careful not to scare you. Jungkook loved you, passionately and desperately, and he quaked at the thought of terrifying you further. You were his little dove--you needed to be loved slowly, gently.

“I want to taste you, my love,” he murmured as his face settled centimeters from your exposed folds. “Please, will you let me have you?”

Your bottom lip trembled, and your eyes were wide with arousal. The growing ache and need for him was surging through your veins swiftly, swirling in your mind and clouding any thought that wasn’t the handsome prince, and the way his hands and body felt against yours. All you could think, all you could comprehend was him--only him.

Your head nodded quickly in reply. “Yes, please, sir.”

Jungkook stifled a groan at the sound of the honorific leaving you. His spine tingled and he nearly lost all resolve to remain composed. You drove him mad, and it took all he had to not claim you fully and deeply there, now.

With a gentle kiss to each side of your luscious thighs, Jungkook worshiped each inch of your skin as he worked towards the apex. He let the sounds of your pleasured sighs and keening gasps roll over him like fine silk. As he reached your center, he gently bowed his head and pressed a soft kiss to your clit, before allowing his tongue to dart out and taste a droplet of your slick.

He pulled his head back and closed his eyes in bliss as the flavor blossomed on his tongue. You tasted so sweet, and earthy. Like a mulled wine, sweet and honeyed and intoxicating.

“Perfect,” he admired as he lowered his head back down. “I knew you’d taste so sweet, so perfect.”

Jungkook eagerly got to work now, tongue gently caressing the nub of nerves that had your legs quaking at each tender lick. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt, succumbed to his desire and pliant underneath him. He wished to be buried in your sweet cunt for ever, both mouth and cock. He knew now, irrevocably, he would never be able to live without you.

He drank from you as if you were the last fountain on earth, the only source of his hydration. His tongue worked eagerly, dipping into the pools of your tight heat and licking up the sweet wetness that pooled. He couldn’t fathom how one little angel could taste so sweet, feel so good against his tongue.

Your sweet sighs and moans spurred him on. Your legs trembled gently and with each caress of his tongue on your nub, your sounds only increased in volume and in need. The prince was eager to get you to your high, make you feel euphoria caused by him and him only.

Your legs quivered and you gasped his name, and he couldn’t help but smile. A finger slid into your walls, coaxing your climax with each curl and press of his finger against the tender spot inside you. It made you nearly scream with how delicious it felt, and Jungkook knew you were near the end. He increased his pressure and speed of his tongue, and curled another finger inside of you.

“Cum for me, my love,” he encouraged between licks. “Let me taste you.”

You were no match for him and his words, dripping in unadulterated love and need. His eyes connected with yours and your climax washed over you swiftly. Your back arched and hips squirmed as your walls fluttered and milked his fingers, begging for more--so much more.

Jungkook fervidly licked at the juices that slowly trickled down his fingers from within you, cleaning his hand as he let it slide from within you.

“My little dove,” he sighed. “You taste so sweet when you cum for me.”

Your breaths came out hard, as if your lungs hadn’t worked for hours. You inhaled sharply as you watched him continue to devour the juices on his hands and you felt your spine tingle in response.

Jungkook’s hard length was hard against his trousers and you were desperate now to have the man buried inside you.

“Jungkook, please,” you gasped, hands reaching for the man who now sat above you. “Please, take me.”

The prince’s heart nearly melted to the floor of the castle at your desperate plea. You were his, you knew now that you were his. He made quick work of the cotton trousers and shirt, tearing them off his body until he was just as naked as you. He knew this is how he wanted to be, always. No clothes, no barriers, nothing to stand in between him and you, his perfect little dove.

“I’m here,” he soothed as he pressed his lips to yours. “Let me take care of you, my princess.”

He easily lined himself up with your heat, rubbing the bulbous head against the slick and nearly entering when you swiftly grabbed his arms and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, shame coloring your cheeks. “Please… please don’t hurt me.”

Jungkook stopped breathing, the world stopped turning. He couldn’t believe his luck--his dove, his princess... all his. You would become his in every sense of the word. He will have what no man has ever had before, and never get the chance to take. He kissed at your lips gently and nodded.

“I’d rather cut off my own hand than hurt you even once.”

Your eyes softened, soothed by his words and actions, and you nodded gently.

“Take me, Jungkook.” Your words were brave, and ready. Jungkook felt his cock twitch with excitement, and he pressed one final kiss to your lips as he lined himself up and pushed in gently.

Jungkook pulled away from your lips to gasp. Never had he felt such incredible, tight heat. He could tell by the scrunch of your features that you were adjusting to his thick length. Despite your first climax, your body still resisted the press of his cock inside you. It felt like scorching wet heat and the tightness alone nearly made the prince cum as he bottomed out.

He remained still within you as your body relaxed. His hands rubbed gently at your hips and thighs, caressing them sweetly as he whispered his praise to you.

“You took me so well,” he murmured. “My little dove, so good for me. You’re doing so well.”

You whimpered out in need, desire for him to move inside you. The pain melted away to pleasure quickly, and you’re thankful he spent so much time preparing you with his mouth and fingers. The tender care the Prince showered on you made your heart beat rapidly against your chest, working over time like the beat of a bird’s.

“Are you ready, my sweet?” He asked. He could feel his cock ache with the need to set a pace, to feel the way your walls stroke him, but he would not allow himself such pleasure without your word.

“Take me, Jungkook, I’m yours.”

He moaned loudly, allowing the possessiveness of your voice to spur him to begin.

He started his movements slow and with intention. Each drag out and thrust in, he monitored your face for any sign of displeasure. When all that crossed your features was blissful pleasure, he moved faster.

Your body relaxed ten-fold as the man above you began to drill harder into you. The pain of the stretch was nearly gone by now, replaced only by a sizzling bliss that had your mouth gaping open and begging for more. Sweat began to gather at the prince’s brow and you’re taken by how handsome he is, how truly carnal he looks as he pounds into you with no abandon.

Your walls accommodate him perfectly, gripping him tight while still allowing passage. Jungkook felt as if your very cunt was made for him, molded to be his exact match. He could feel himself nearing closer and closer to the edge of bliss--climbing so high to the peaks of climax.

Your body was racked with pleasure. It poured out of your body in sweet sighs and torrential trembles. With each delicious push and pull of his cock within you, the fire grew and grew. It swirled around your body, clawed at your neck and clouded your mind with smoke. All you knew was Jungkook, his thick length, his warm body, and the way his eyes burned holes into yours. Each thrust sent you so much closer to another dizzying peak and your fingers gripped at his arms tighter.

He could tell by the rapture on your face that you were close--could feel it in the fluttering of your walls.

“Cum for me,” he groaned. “Let go, little dove. Let me feel you.”

You whimpered needily, groaning as the prince continued to thrust into you at a turbulent speed. He licked his thumb before allowing it to circle your clit, the bundle of nerves nearly screaming to life as he stimulated it.

Jungkook licked his lips as he watched your body come nearly undone at his touch. He could feel the way his body was building and climbing towards a grand finish, one he wanted to bury deep inside you.

“G-going to cum,” he groaned as he increased his strokes. ‘’I will fill you so well, you feel so good..’’

Never had you felt closer to another person, another man. Jungkook was truly the only one in the world for you, and you could never stray away. His hands gripped you tight and possessively as he powered his way to his finish.

“P-please!” You gasped as your vision started to dot with black spots. You couldn’t speak, breath overtaken by gasps and whimpers of need, as your body finally peaked at it’s high. Your moans were loud as you soared into the blissful pool that only Jungkook had ever taken you to. Your walls contracted around him tightly, squeezing and coaxing his cock to release his own pleasure inside you.

Jungkook lasted mere seconds after feeling youl grip him so tightly, and hearing your sweet dulcet voice sing praises and whines. His cock pulsed as he emptied himself into you, hot cum painting your sweet walls and pooling in your womb.

A long moment followed where Jungkook was just.. staring down at your exhausted form from above. His overgrown fringe clung to his clammy skin, lips swollen from biting down on them more often than not, and chest heaving up and down as he emotionally gathered himself back into one piece after shattering for you.

‘‘My love,’’ He whispered as he leaned down over you once more, sweaty skin sticking together. But no matter, he wouldn’t want you any other way right this moment. He gently moved his lips against yours, all while still keeping himself deep inside of you, making sure nothing would be spilled to waste, ‘‘My beautiful Y/N.’‘

A small smile tugged at your lips when he calls you by your first name. You reach out to brush his fringe away from his forehead, combing his dark, soft locks with your fingers, ‘’My dear Jungkook.’’

Jungkook’s heart almost stopped. You’d said a lot of things, you’d even given him your body. But you had never, ever had referred to him with any term of endearment until now. It was always his name, or his title.

‘‘What did you just say?’’ He asked, one hand cupping your face gently to guide your eyes to meet his own. He looked at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but if you tried to name them, it’d be a mix of confusion, joy, and relief.

‘‘My dear,’‘ You paused to place your hand on top of his, leaning your cheek into his palm further, ‘‘Jungkook.’‘

Jungkook’s hot breath fanned your lips as he sighed in content, eyes still fixed on you. He kissed you once, softly, before pulling back to look at you again.

‘‘Please say it now’’ He asked quietly. The hint of sadness and desperation wasn’t evident in his voice, however, his eyes didn’t lie. They were wide, intensely focused on your every single reaction as he anticipated your answer, ‘’Say you’ll be mine.’’

You were already his in every sense of the word, except one. He needed you to say it yourself.

And who were you to resist the prince?

‘‘I’ll be yours.’‘ You finally broke the silence. Jungkook’s eyes flickered between yours with his doe ones, desperately trying to find any sign of lies. But instead, all he could see was utter affection, and your truthful words finally sank in.

‘’Be my wife.’‘ Jungkook continued, leaning his forehead against yours, ‘‘I love you. I promise to always love you. Nobody else will be able to take care of you the way I can.’‘

You nod, a quiet ‘yes’ leaving your lips before you crane your neck to kiss him. You might’ve been confused, frightened, and even sad at times-- but now? You were happy.

Happy to belong to the prince.

Jungkook smiles against your lips, he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have found you.

Or rather, you had found him.

Either way, it couldn’t have been anything but fate. And.. Jungkook believed in that.

3K notes · View notes

raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

Mercy

Summary: You want to save your friend from Seokjin even though you know how cruel his punishments can be.

Trigger warning: Torture, assault, burning.

A/N: Please note this story has violent themes that may be uncomfortable for some readers. Please do not read this story if you are underage or are sensitive to such topics.

Seokjin

Yandere!Seokjin King!Seokjin

"I will die." Is all Annette could say, over and over. The elderly maid stood with you, the remnants of a suit jacket in her hands, a helpless fright shaking her words. She had been distracted for a moment and the fabric had caught on a candle. Her reaction was one of frozen shock and the flame quickly jumped along it, scorching about 30% of the material before you managed to put it out.

Whether the King cared for the item or not, whether he even noticed it was gone was irrelevant. You all knew better than to hide something from him. He would eventually find out, somehow he always did. And when he found out she had hidden her failure, he would bring the very concept of hell to life for her deception.

That being said, to confess to such a mistake would also certainly lead to dire consequences. All of the staff knew to catch his attention in any way was a disastrous thing. And any action that gave him a reason to torture you would surely become your greatest regret.

At nearly 70 years, Annette had seen and heard just about all of what the King was capable of. He may be a merciful ruler, but within these walls, he was nothing more than a beast in search of yet another person to devour.

You knew as well as any other, if not more so, exactly why she was so afraid. The thought of what he could do terrified you. But you also knew that she was one among many of the staff who had gone out of their way to shelter you from the King in the initial months after you started at the palace. If you had heeded their instruction and warnings, you may have never even crossed his path. But you were impetuous and resistant and now you had the scars and marks as penance. You also knew that with or without reason or mistake, you already had the Kings focus. Maybe today or maybe tomorrow or the day after, he was going to call you to him again like he regularly did, and he was going to take pleasure in hurting you. Nothing was going to stop that.

But there was still an opportunity to spare this woman.

It was only you and Annette here to see the jacket be damaged. It could have easily been you that was distracted. You were known to be absent-minded. It would be very believable that this was your fault.

"Anne, give it to me." You request, holding your hands out. The woman, still in a daze, hands it over without any acknowledgment. You point to your section of the room to the clothes you had been cleaning. "Those were yours, okay." You gesture to her section and the damaged garment. "And these are mine."

Your meaning seems to slowly click into place. "No, Y/n. You can not do that, Love. I-"

"You are my friend. And you made a simple mistake. You shouldn't have to suffer for it. You know what Jin will do to me anyway. There is no need for both of us to-." Your words are strong and sure but taper off as the fear and worry you feel on the inside stop you from creating a complete sentence.

With a mix of pain and gratitude in her eyes, she resigns with a nod. Accepting your merciful offer.

His attendant had informed you that the King was available and alone. You realized early on that it was better to come to him when he was by himself. Not that it would lessen how he treated you, but at least this way no one else would see what he would do to you. And it would save you some shame.

The guard knocks on the door. He opens it with permission and announces you. On hearing the King call you in, you have to wipe your hands down the length of your dress to rid them of sweat. You enter the room, the guard closing the door on your back sealing you in the study.

Sitting at his desk Jin's usual emotionless expression is gone, a subtle look of intrigue in its place. And what is nearly a smile on his lips.

You had never come to him of your own free will before. He had always summoned you. But here you were. Seeming to offer yourself up.

"Your Majesty." You curtsy, bowing your head if only to hide the tremble in your eyes.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?" He purrs.

This was it. Time to confess to something you had not done and receive a punishment you did not deserve. While you could never actually do it, you can't help but momentarily question whether to instead tell the truth and betray Annette.

You breathe deep for strength. "I need to apologize for a mistake I made." You look up to him to sense his reaction. For a brief moment, he flashes a look that is nearly giddy with excitement.

"For what?" He prompts.

Gripping it tightly, you lift up the tattered jacket for him to see.

He stands, that hidden smile becoming clear on his face. Circling the desk, he takes it from your hands and continues strolling down the room until he stops next to the lounge arrangement in front of the fireplace. Turning, his finger is pressed to his lips in thought.

"Come here," he calls softly with a drawing motion from the same finger.

You swallow heavily, sucking your tongue to wet your dry mouth. Although you follow the order, you are filled with regret and a deep-seated desire to turn and run from him instead. However, you had made that mistake once before and you swore you would never again.

"Kneel." He points down to the fireplace's outer hearth. Looking lowly and fighting back nausea, you do. You can feel the heat from the burning wood and embers against your front right away. "Place your arm above the fire." He instructs. The calm of his tone not matching with the cruelty of the order.

There is only a wall around the fireplace. So the only thing he could mean is to put your arm inside the firepit over the flame.

Slowly, trying not to touch the top of the pit or the fire itself, you guide your arm in as Jin commanded. Instantly, the heat swarms around your skin and too quickly it goes from warm to hot to burning. You hold it for about 20 seconds, hissing air in through your teeth until you can't any longer.

You yank your body back with a yelp. Panting, looking over how the skin has turned red after only a few moments.

His large hands grab your hair and slam your face into the bricked wall. Your head bounces off and you fall back, clutching your forehead feeling the skin having torn.

Seokjin nods towards the outer hearth again, mouth pressed into a straight line. You want to beg and whine for him to not make you do this, but again you had done so a few times before and were taught quickly that it was better to not say or do anything more than what he orders.

Hesitantly you climb back up. He's not going to ask again, the next time he is more likely to push you into the coals himself.

Unable to stop yourself from jerking your arm back every few inches, you slow back above the fire. The burn returning even quicker. You force yourself to hold still this time. Drawing on all your strength to endure. Your fingers and cut forehead pressing and clinging into the bricks, you try to bear the pain as you feel your skin beginning to burn.

Kicking your feet under you, you're whimpering and squealing, tears pricking in your eyes, as waves of sharp sizzling pangs spur up your arm. Instinctually your body continues to flinch and jerk, fighting to get away, but you overpower your impulses. The effort turning shrill cries into outright screams of agony.

For nearly two minutes Seokjin listens and watches you writhe and cry, a small satisfied smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes.

At a point past pain where the throb in your body starts to have you feeling numb, the King finally grants you quarter, permitting you to remove your arm.

You do so stiffly. Your entire body throbbing, head pounding. Your chest compressed from heavy sobs.

Dropping onto the ground, you cradle your arm. Your forearm and palm are littered with blisters and burns. The skin red and ruined.

The King holds the tarnished fabric upright, examining it again for a moment. With a shrug, he throws it into the fireplace to finish its destruction. "No matter," he tisks "I didn't really like that jacket anyway."

#bts #kim seokjin #bts soekjin #yandere #yandere bts #yandere seokjin #bangtan #yandere bangtan #king!seokjin #bts scenarios

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j-graysonlibrary · 8 months

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Silverfalls Court Chapter 10

Title: Silverfalls Court

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 50K

Genres: drama, suspense, who-done-it, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: A young girl, lost in the bliss of her first relationship, will do anything in the pursuit of what she believes is true love—even sneaking out of her house in the dead of night. Unfortunately, she is met by someone she didn’t quite expect. Her fight or flight instincts kick in but she in no match for the killer in the woods.

And her death won’t be the only one.

The once peaceful and quaint neighborhood of Silverfalls Court is thrown into chaos and upheaval when bodies keep showing up in the woods. When it becomes apparent that the murderer must be one of them, suspicions grow thick and trust is shattered.

Some, like Lisa-Marie Castel, want to play detective and solve the case on their own while others, like Dominique Pulmer, want to keep their heads down and wait for things to return to normal. Some might even wish to capitalize on the bizarre nature of the story while those who have been personally affected are left to pick up the broken pieces of their lives amidst the chaos.

Full chapter 10 under the cut:

10. Good Faith

Every day Dominique had walked across the street and rang Lamar’s doorbell. And every day he waited on the porch for at least five minutes. Once or twice a week, he’d walk around the house, seeing what he could glean from the windows.

There was never any response. There was never anything suspicious that he could see from outside. There was just…nothing.

Occasionally, Dom would be joined by someone else whether they shared his concern for Lamar (Diana and Carson) or if they just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to break in and steal something (the Dicksons and Karowitz).

Dom rang the bell as was his new ritual and waited. He knocked too—just to be sure—but, of course, the result was the same as it always was.

He crossed his arms and cursed under his breath. Both Lamar and Susan’s cars were still parked in the driveway like monuments to their disappearance and death respectively.

“Hey!” The yell of Karowitz carried through the air so Dom reluctantly turned to face his house. The man wobbled down his front steps and pointed his finger at him. “What are you doing over here again?”

“Same thing as last time, Sebastian,” Dom said with a forced smile. He knew the old war vet had a gun strapped to him somewhere and he had little doubt that he’d use it if he felt he needed to. That threshold, however, was hard for Dom to judge so he figured playing nice from the start was his best bet. “I’m just checking to see if maybe Lamar came back. You never know.”

Karowitz scowled deeply and looked to the Vick’s place with narrowed eyes. “Well he ain’t there.”

“…Seems not.”

“Then you ought to get back home.” The man waved his hand to the side as if to shoo Dom back to his house.

There was only so much he could take—he was a grown man not some pesky fly. Dom set his hands on his hips and stared down at Karowitz. “Why does it bother you so much, Sebastian? You don’t want to get to the bottom of everything that happened? Or does it just make you uncomfortable to see me outside? To see me at all?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” he snapped, “You know how I feel ‘bout all these killings. It was that man in there who done it and now he’s run off. Case closed. Why you gotta stick your big nose in it?”

“Maybe I don’t believe it is a closed case,” Dom challenged.

Sebastian let out a breathy sigh before he shook his head. “Shoulda figured you’d stick up for your ‘brotha’. Makes sense. But even you gotta face the facts eventually.”

Thinly veiled racism aside, Sebastian was right—just not in the way he meant to be. Dom frowned and slowly started to nod. “I do have to face the facts.”

The facts were that he’d seen, without a shadow of a doubt, the Castels walk away with Lamar. Reason led him to the conclusion that they must have either A; taken him somewhere else to help him ‘escape’ or B; they had brought them to their house. Lisa-Marie helping a suspect escape made no sense so it was immediately tossed aside which only left the option that they escorted him to their house.

And it made sense. If Lisa-Marie was playing detective then she’d want the chance to interrogate someone as well. Even if she didn’t think Lamar was responsible, he was still the last victim’s husband so, in any normal scenario, he would have been questioned anyway. If she took that role upon herself then she would most likely take him to her house and question him there.

But no one had seen him since. So he had to still be there.

Dom felt his stomach twist into a pretzel the more he thought about it. How would he even approach the situation if he was right? Talk to Lisa-Marie? He doubted that would get him far. Calling the cops was out of the question too. Clearly, they were no help.

The only person he had to discuss his theory with was Collin. For a brief moment he considered calling Diana and Carson over but if he was wrong in his assumptions, he didn’t want to rile them up or, worse, scare them.

Collin wasn’t directly involved so he had a perspective that was unique and valued. He might even see something that Dom missed on Thanksgiving.

Well after sundown, Collin came over, looking exhausted. He was in the throes of the last semester at college so it was understandable. The bags under his eyes would disappear once he started work and his energy would slowly return over time. Dom remembered those days well.

“Thanks for coming by,” he said and helped him out of his outer layers. As he pulled the coat off of his arms he recognized it. With a smile, he asked, “Is this the coat I bought you for Christmas?”

Collin brightened up and smiled. “It is. I wear it all the time—it’s very cozy.”

Dom hung it up on the coat rack before giving him a small kiss. “I’m glad.”

“I hope you don’t mind but I’m probably not going to be very fun tonight,” Collin said as he headed toward the living room. “I’m so tired.”

“We can just watch a movie or something.” He didn’t mind a low-energy date. “I do have something I wanted to talk to you about though.”

His boyfriend threw himself down on the couch, quickly getting comfortable. “Nothing serious, is it?”

“Yes but it’s not relationship related if that helps.” Dom smiled a little to ease any worry he might have had.

Apparently, it was unnecessary as Collin chuckled. “Of course not. What problems could you possibly have with me?”

Dom decided not to touch that at all and instead just sat beside him. “It’s about Lamar.”

“Is he still missing?” Collin grabbed the TV remote off of the coffee table and then leaned back into the couch. He started flipping through channels but still glanced over occasionally.

“..Yes.” Dom sighed. “It’s been almost two months now and…I just don’t believe he ran off.”

“He didn’t seem like the type, no,” Collin agreed but did little more than shrug.

“I worry he’s still in Lisa-Marie’s house,” he said and tensed when his boyfriend finally gave him his full attention.

Collin’s brow furrowed and his lower lip poked out just a little more than usual. “You think…Lisa-Marie and her…very average husband…are keeping Lamar—the Greek God of a man—locked away in their house?”

“It was the last time I saw him,” Dom explained though, at this point, he could tell he was losing Collin, “And no one saw him leave. Couple that with the fact no one has seen him at all since then and…what else am I supposed to think?”

“…Still…” Collin frowned.

“I mean,” he started but then stopped immediately as he tried to reason it aloud, “Lamar had to have been devastated when they took him in. I saw him. He looked depressed as hell—he probably just found out about Susan. They offer him a nice place to sit and talk and…who knows? Lisa-Marie probably has several pairs of handcuffs at her disposal. She could have just been trying to play the cop role on her own but things went wrong?”

Collin stared at him and blinked in silence for a few seconds. “That’s quite the picture you painted. I…suppose I can see it but, I don’t know. You’d think someone would have heard or seen something in that case, right?”

It made sense that if Lamar was locked up against his will that he would have called for help and his yells would have been heard by the Castel’s neighbors. Unless Lisa-Marie had a soundproof room or a crazy basement. Both of those options seemed likely when Dom really thought about it but he doubted Collin would be on the same page as him.

The real question he had—assuming Lamar was taken in and possibly handcuffed somewhere in the depths of the Castel’s house—was why had two months passed with no news? After a few days, anyone would have started to tell Lisa-Marie whatever she wanted to hear just to be let out of there and, if that happened, then Lamar would have been taken in by the cops by now.

So either his imprisonment had nothing to do with the ‘investigation’ or he wasn’t alive anymore. Or, Dom was still willing to humor, Lamar never went to the Castels. Even if it seemed less and less likely the more he thought about it, he still kept it open as a possibility.

“You know, the more I consider the possibilities, the more worried I get,” Dom admitted after a few moments.

“You’re a worrywart, that’s why.” Collin snickered softly almost to himself. His eyes were back on the TV as he landed on some reality show that Dom had never seen.

He wanted to keep working through theories but he could see his boyfriend’s eyelids flicker and slowly droop. There was no sense in carrying on when he was clearly about to fall asleep.

Dom rubbed his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.”

Collin pouted like a stubborn child. “It’s only ten though.”

“AKA, my usual bedtime.”

That at least got a laugh out of him. Collin nodded and then turned the TV off. “Alright. You win.”

“Don’t act like you’re not tired.” Dom helped him up from the couch. “A mature adult knows their limits, you know.”

“Isn’t that what you always tell me when I drink too much?”

“…Well it applies here too.”

He had to practically push him into the bedroom with how badly he was dragging his feet. Dom undressed on his own and kept looking to Collin who was slowly removing his shirt with eyes that looked closed already. He smirked and shook his head.

“Just get in bed,” he told him and pulled down some of the covers. Every so often, sleeping with pants on was just inevitable, Dom knew from experience. Though, if he said it aloud, he knew Collin would chalk it up to being another nugget of his ‘old man wisdom’.

***

A bright light landed over Dom’s face, waking him before he was ready. His brow knotted and he frowned before slowly opening his eyes and looking about the room.

The window was pulled open and he was fairly sure he hadn’t left it like that when he went to bed. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, removing the last bit of sleep from them.

“Collin?” he called out groggily but received no response.

Dom turned to look beside him and saw that the bed was empty. Odd, Collin usually slept later than he did.

Even stranger was the folded up piece of paper on the nightstand. He snatched it up and opened it, instantly recognizing Collin’s handwriting on the page.

“Morning sleepyhead!

I got up early and I decided to help you out since I know you’ll never do it yourself. Don’t worry, I brought my phone with me in case things go south.

If it’s not clear, I’m going to Lisa-Marie’s place. I figured I’d ask her straight away what she knows instead of you brooding over all the possibilities for who knows how long. If I’m still gone when you read this then maybe you can come join me.

Xoxo,

Collin”

Dom woke all the way up and was instantly filled with energy. He rushed to the bathroom to freshen up in what had to have been record time for him. Before leaving his house, he threw on a couple of coats that were probably mismatched but he didn’t care.

No one else in the neighborhood was up yet, it seemed, so Dom ran to the next cul-de-sac without stopping. If anyone had been outside he might have had to stop to give an excuse for his erratic and urgent behavior.

Even in the other cul-de-sac, it was like a ghost town. The only occupied porch was Lisa-Marie’s. From the other side of the circular road, Dom could see Collin sitting on the woman’s patio chair.

There was less reason to run so he slowed down and just kept his eyes fixed on his boyfriend. The irritation that had been secondary to the fear started to push itself to the forefront the closer he got.

Along with Collin there was, of course, Lisa-Marie. She poured him a glass of what looked like lemonade before sitting down across from him and talking with animated hand gestures.

Dom made it to the base of the stairs and, by then, the two had definitely taken note of him and looked over. “What’s going on?” he asked, unable to hide the frustration in his voice.

“We’re just chatting,” Lisa-Marie responded with a smile. “Want to join?”

Dom looked from her to Collin.

“It’s fine,” Collin said and coaxed him closer, “Come sit.”

Against his better judgment, Dom took the spot next to Collin. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to know what Lisa-Marie had to say for herself.

If she had some grand explanation.

If she had anything to say at all.

“I was just explaining what happened with Lamar,” she opened with and rested her hands on her knees. “See, my husband and I did bring him over to talk but he left after about an hour.”

“See?” Collin smiled.

“I know it must have looked suspicious,” Lisa-Marie said and scratched the back of her head, “I had no idea you’d seen us. Otherwise, I would have talked to you sooner than this.”

“I figured it was just a misunderstanding,” Collin confidently replied.

She grinned and nodded in his direction. “Right,” she said before turning her gaze back on Dom, “But I do understand your concern, Dominique. I would have been worried too. Really.”

Something about her wording still didn’t sit right with Dom. She always laid things on a little too thickly for his taste and this was no different. Only now, his longstanding dislike of the woman was mixed with his ever growing suspicion.

“So,” Dom started and felt his boyfriend’s stare burning into the side of his head. He knew what was expected of him in the moment but he couldn’t help but push his boundaries. Just this once. It was too important to not try. “You wouldn’t mind showing us around your house?”

“Dom,” Collin spoke lowly and there was a hidden warning in his voice.

Lisa-Marie, however, chuckled. “It’s fine if that’ll convince you. I don’t have a problem with it since I’m telling the truth.”

“No, we don’t need to walk around in your house,” Collin said and placed a hand on Dom’s arm but the grip was much tighter than it appeared. “We should head back. Sorry for bothering you.”

Dom’s jaw set and he felt torn. He didn’t want to upset Collin any further, obviously, but he did want to check Lisa-Marie’s house. Even if she said it was fine, he didn’t believe her.

He didn’t believe anything she was saying.

But he knew he’d wind up bending to Collin’s will. It was the safer option anyway and, as much as Dom wanted to get to the bottom of what happened with Lamar, he wouldn’t put them at risk if he could help it. Just because Lisa-Marie was clearly full of shit didn’t mean he had to be the one to expose her.

He wasn’t the hero type.

#silverfalls court #my novel #writeblr #lgbt writers

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alexa-crowe · 2 years

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This Is the Worthwhile Fight

Because @modernjosechung was adamant that I’ll Find Someone (Just Like You) deserved a sequel. Available on AO3.

6 Years Later

When his therapist said that healing would take time, Mulder didn’t that that he meant six years. But now that he’s put in time and effort towards building himself a better existence, he finds that he has no room to care about such a small misconception. His only worry is that six years was too long of a wait for Scully.

“Do you think I’m ready to make the call?” Mulder asks, fingers fluttering around each other as he leans forward, aware of the vulnerability he’s displaying. He’s been asking it more often now.

“I think only you can make that choice.”

—

“Doctor Scully?” One of the nurses knocks on the door to her office. “Time to scrub up. Patient’s ready in operating room 5C.”

“Thanks, Makeela,” Dana says, standing up from her desk and taking off her cross to place it inside a small box on the varnished wood before placing it inside a drawer of the desk. “Tell the team to be ready in ten minutes.”

She places her phone on her desk before leaving her office and locking the door behind her. Unbeknownst to Dana, her phone rings around five.

—

Mulder’s hands are slick with sweat, so he nervously rubs his palms on his jeans, licking his lips as his eyes flit around his apartment.

“Hi! You’ve reached Dana Scully’s phone. I can’t answer right now, but you can leave a message at the tone if you’d like.”

Something in him unclenches at the lack of having to speak to her live. “Scully, it’s me, Mulder. I...I know it’s been a long time, but I took what you said that night seriously. I’m better. I’ve been working on myself for the past six years and I think that I’m in a place where I can participate in a healthy relationship with you. Call me back when you can, or just come around for a visit whenever to Apartment 42 in Hegal Place on Charnery Road, Alexandria.” He pauses. “Hope we see each other soon. I’ve missed you.”

He ends the message and lets out a sigh of relief that it’s done. Now, to wait.

—

Even though it’s late and she’s tired and the last thing she ate was a packet of Gold Fish from the vending machines, Dana’s determined to stick around until her patient wakes up from the anesthesia. She tells one of the nurses to call her office when the little girl does before heading back to her office to unwind.

With a groan, Dana sits down at her desk and kneads her lower back before going through the usual motions of putting her necklace back on and checking her phone for messages. Usually, there’s one from her parents offering an update on Emily, but today there’s another one.

Dana listens to the detailed one from her mother with a cameo from her father where Margaret details the day, down to the food they fed Emily. She laughs softly and lets the second one play.

“Scully, it’s me, Mulder.” Immediately, she feels the blood drain from her face. “I...I know it’s been a long time, but I took what you said that night seriously. I’m better.” When she told him to call her if he ever got better, she never thought that he’d actually try. “I’ve been working on myself for the past six years and I think that I’m in a place where I can participate in a healthy relationship with you. Call me back when you can, or just come around for a visit to Apartment 42 in Hegal Place, Charnery Road, Alexandria.” There’s a pause in the recording, and a tear wells up and slips down her lashes to slide down her cheek. “Hope we see each other soon. I’ve missed you.”

Fate is cruel, isn’t it? Now that Mulder’s ready, Dana doesn’t know if she is. So much has happened in six years. She didn’t have Emily six years ago, never would’ve thought that she’d be a single mother one day. But, then again, she knows the studies on children with two parents versus one, and knows that she shouldn’t discount Mulder right away even if it’s scary. They never talked about kids all those years ago; Dana doesn’t know whether he’ll be amenable to her new lifestyle.

“Don’t overthink it,” she mutters before calling him back.

—

When his phone rings, Mulder scrambles to pick it up, grinning when he sees SCULLY on the little screen. “Scully,” he immediately says, rearranging himself on his couch as he turns off the TV.

“Mulder,” she says back, sounding muted instead of...well, overjoyed or cautious or something else that would make sense.

“How, uh, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing well,” Scully replies, inhaling afterwards as if she’s preparing herself to say something important. Mulder deflates as he waits for her to continue, smile fading. “Listen, Mulder... I would love to see you again, but... Fuck, I don’t know how to say this without being awkward.”

“You’re with someone,” he supplies, trying not to let on that he’s done a one-eighty and is close to tears.

“No!” she exclaims, “No, no, I’m not—I’m not with anyone. I was, and that—Jesus. I’m just going to say it. I have a kid, Mulder. I’m a mother. And that—it’s not—if we’re going to do this, I need to know that you’ll be committed to her, too.”

He stays silent for a long time, processing the fact that not only did she not wait for him like he did for her, but that she’s had a child with someone else. But as he thinks it all through, he remembers how bad he was when they knew each other, how insensitive and noncommittal, and can’t feel anything other than guilt at the fact that Scully didn’t trust him to get better for her.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t trust me, Scully,” Mulder eventually says, vision blurred with tears.

“What?” she says, voice trembling slightly.

“You didn’t trust me to commit to changing for you. But I did—I have—and I’ll be just as committed to your daughter. I know that I’ve never really been around kids, but I want to be with you, Scully. If that means taking on the responsibilities of childcare, I’ll give it my all.”

“Oh my God, Mulder,” Scully cries. “I was so afraid that you wouldn’t want to be with me because you didn’t sign up for a life with a baby.”

He laughs tearfully with her, sniffling as he wipes away his tears. “When can I meet her?”

“I, uh,�� she starts, smile bleeding into her voice. “I have off in two days because I have to take Emily for a check-up, but you can come over after twelve. Let me give you the address.”

Mulder scrambles for a pen and paper and kneels on the floor when he’s done, sticky note on the coffee table and pen poised to write. “Alright, I’m ready.” He scribbles it down and caps the pen when he’s done, standing up to stick the note on his bedside table. “I have to work on Thursday but I get out at five. Bethesda’s not too far of a drive from the Hoover Building, though. I should be there around six.”

“Sounds good. You work for the FBI?”

“Yeah. I went traveling for a while after we broke up, looking for answers I never found, and they recruited me not too long after I came back. You’re a doctor, now, right?”

“Yeah, a pediatric neurosurgeon at Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Hospital. It’s taxing but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Helping those kids—” She suddenly cuts herself off, but after a moment, she comes back. “Sorry about that, Mulder, but I’m actually at work right now. I was on a break but I have to get back. I’m really looking forward to seeing you on Thursday.”

“So am I. Bye, Scully,” he says.

“Goodbye, Mulder,” and unless he’s mistaken, there’s some fondness in her words.

—

Emily’s checkup goes well and the doctor pronounces her a healthy eighteen-month-old baby, smiling when she hides her face in Dana’s neck. “We’re having a friend over today, Em.”

“F’end?” she repeats, playing with her dolly in the car seat.

“Yeah. His name is Mulder. He’s a good friend of mine and he’s very excited to see us.”

“Mul’er.” Dana glances at her daughter in the rearview mirror as she giggles. “Fuh-ny!”

Dana smiles and looks back at the road. “It is funny, I agree. Mulder is actually his last name, like ours is Scully. His first name is Fox, but he likes to go by Mulder since that’s less funny than Fox.”

“Fuh-ny Fox!” Emily gleans, squealing with laughter as the sun glints off of her baby blonde hair.

—

Mulder takes extra care to wash himself clean in the shower before putting on his best pair of jeans and his preferred grey t-shirt under his coat. He checks the time and the address Scully gave him one more time before leaving for work, stowing the sticky note in his pocket. Between the busy case they’re investigating and Mulder’s daydreaming in his free time, five o’clock rolls around quickly.

He hastily leaves the building and begins the drive to Scully’s house, checking the address obsessively as he follows the route he highlighted in yellow on his map. A few minutes before six, he pulls up in front of 62 Larkspur Lane, a rather nice suburban house. Not as nice as the ones all the doctors I’ve met live in, he thinks as he parks in the driveway.

Mulder wipes his hands on his jeans as he walks up to the door and knocks on it, listening to the sound of footsteps approaching until the door opens and Scully’s finally standing in front of him after six years of separation. “Mulder, hi! Come in, come in. It’s almost freezing out there!”

She ushers him inside with a hand on his back and takes his coat before leading him into the living room, where a fire’s going behind a protective barrier. Emily’s playing between the couches with her dolls, red hair similar to her mother’s held back from her face by two butterfly hair clips. She looks up when the adults enter, eyes flitting between him and Scully as she sucks on a binkie.

“This is Mulder, Emmy,” she says, sitting down on the floor and petting her daughter’s head before they both look up at Mulder.

“Mul’er?” Emily says, having removed her binkie with her chubby fingers while looking up at him with big eyes.

“Hi, Emily,” he tentatively greets, slowly sitting down in front of the Scully girls. “What’s that?” Mulder touches one of the dolls with his index finger. “Is that a doll?”

After a moment of staring at his finger, Emily nods and grabs him, bringing his finger up to the height of her face. “Pen-eh-pee,” she attempts slowly, turning the doll around to show him the tag on the back with the name Penelope printed on it.

“Good job, Emmy!” Scully coos, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head.

“It’s a beautiful name, Emily,” Mulder tells her with a fond smile, and she looks away with a giggle, pressing her face into Scully’s chest.

“They’re usually shy around new people at this age,” she explains, brushing her fingers through her daughter’s hair.

“How old is she?”

“Eighteen months. She’s the light of my life, isn’t that right, Emmy?” Scully lifts her daughter up to brush their noses together before sitting her down in her lap, facing Mulder. “Are you hungry? I’ve got leftover lasagna from my mother in the fridge. It’s about time for Em to eat again anyways.”

“Since you’re offering...” Mulder accepts with a shy smile. “Do you want some, too?”

“Yes, thank you.”

—

Dana stands up with Emily in her arms and looks over her shoulder to make sure Mulder follows her into the spacious kitchen. “For a neurosurgeon, you live modestly,” he comments, making eye contact without malice as he opens the fridge to retrieve the tupperware container of lasagna.

“This used to be my parents house,” she starts to explain as she sits her daughter in the booster seat attached to one of the bar chairs at the kitchen island. “I moved in with them while I was pregnant with Emily and they helped me care for her. They still watch her after daycare a lot when I have to stay late.” She turns to him as she buckles Em in: “Could you grab the thing of fruit in the fridge? It’s small, should be on the middle right?”

She hears the sound of the fridge opening again and then the sound of it shutting before Mulder places the container of chopped up fruits in front of Emily. “How big of a piece do you want?” he asks, opening up a few drawers before he finds the utensils one by the sound of it.

“Uh, size of my palm? If in doubt, go small. I can always cut myself another slice.”

Before long, everyone is seated and eating, Dana watching Mulder watching Emily, who’s really not so much eating as performing taste tests on the fruits her mother’s feeding her.

She tries to feed the toddler another piece of kiwi but she moves her face away. “More for me, then,” Mulder jokes, stealing a tiny slice of kiwi from the container.

Dana laughs at that and Emily squeals. “Mine,” she insists, covering the fruits with her chubby little hands.

“Oh, they’re yours? Do you like kiwis, pumpkin?”

“Kee? Kee! Kee! Puh—puh-in!”

They both laugh at Emily’s antics before Dana feeds her a piece of cantaloupe. “Where’d ‘pumpkin’ come from?” she asks, making eye contact as Mulder chews and swallows a bite of lasagna.

“My uncle used it when Sam and I were kids, and, I mean... Emily has red hair... It slipped out.”

“Coincidentally, that’s what her first Halloween costume was.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My mom has tons of pictures.”

Mulder nods and eats another bite of lasagna as Dana continues to feed Emily. “Your lasagna’s going to get cold. I can feed her for a bit if you’d like.” She understands the subtext and relinquishes control to him in the form of the small, rubber spoon.

Dana watches with a smile as she eats her lasagna, laughing when a piece of watermelon slips out of Emily’s mouth as she smiles at him. He deftly catches it and puts it back in her mouth, smiling goofily at the toddler.

“Does she walk yet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dana tells him, taking a sip of water. “Speeds around the house all the time. When she’s done eating, that’s what she’s going to do, so be prepared.”

Mulder laughs as he feeds Emily another bite and Dana tucks the moment away to think about after he leaves.

—

The evening wears on until Emily’s practically falling asleep in Mulder’s arms, barely able to keep her eyes open to finish the bedtime story she insisted on. Scully walks him through the process of tucking her in bed and walks him to the door afterwards, a soft smile on her face. He hasn’t seen that smile since her twenty-first birthday party.

“I had fun tonight,” she tells him, watching him pull on his coat.

“Me, too,” he says, stepping close to her. “Can I kiss you?”

Scully’s smile spreads wider like a blooming smile and she nods, gazing up at him as he tentatively cups her cheeks. “I’d like that very much, Mulder.”

“Thank God,” he breathes against her lips, and then he presses his to hers, pure bliss flooding his mind. Eventually, they have to pull apart for air, but Scully’s grinning as he strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. “Call me.”

“I will.”

“Tell me when you’re free. I’d love to come over again, or go somewhere with you guys.”

“Sounds good.” He steps away from her and opens the door before tossing a look at her over his shoulder. “Zip up your coat,” she tells him with a fond look, and he does. “It gets cold.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

He smiles the entire way home.

#txf #fanfiction #mine #msr #emily fic

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space-mermaid-writing · 3 years

Text

House Arrest [Reader X Loki] Chapter 5

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 5: Sneaking Out

Six weeks. You have been here for six fucking weeks. At least your brother has calmed you down enough that you no longer start a heated discussion with Hill or Coulson about your 'release' every time you see them. Instead, you scowl at them from afar and sharpen your new collection of kitchen knives. Loki finds this incredibly hilarious every time he sees that.

Since you don’t really have anything to do, you've restarted your former agent training. It’s also a good excuse to punch some noses to reduce your anger. But neither does it replace the missing outgoing, nor is it really fun for you to stand alone in the huge training hall. You'd rather be cooking.

You're looking at your latest purchase: a long dining table for at least ten people. A splendid piece you have had set up in a room next to the kitchen that has been converted into a dining room. The door opens and Tony walks in, phone to his ear. At the sight of the dark, solid wood, he freezes for a moment and then looks to you. "I'll call you back... Y/N, darling, why did you put this...monstrosity here?" You tilt your head, your eyes continuing to focus on the table. "Isn't it eccentric enough? Maybe I should have gone with the version with gold-plated table legs after all. Dinner, by the way, is at 6:00 sharp. Jarvis will call everyone." With that, you head back to the kitchen, leaving Tony alone. "...Jarvis", he finally brings out. "Yes, Sir?" "How did she wrapped you around her finger for that thing?" "Miss Barton kindly asked me to order it, and there was enough of a budget available to her." "Well..." Tony joins you in the kitchen. "What if someone doesn't have time to eat? I'm afraid we're not all home all the time, darling", he asks you arms crossed. You shrug your shoulders. "Their loss."

It was evening as you wipe your hands on your apron and take the pan off the stove. "Jarvis, will you please tell everyone dinner is served?" "Sure, Miss Barton." As you set the table, a few of the invited people gradually appear - Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and finally Tony. They look at the selection of food and sit down. A home made meal was a pleasant exception. You make another quick trip to the kitchen for salt and napkins. "Jarvis, did you inform Loki?", you ask the computer. "I did. He prefers not to show up." The prince probably wants an extra invitation. You bring the things to the table and then take one of the unused plates. Paying no further attention to the others, who are perfectly occupied with eating anyway, you enter the elevator and go up one floor, where you walk down the long hallway to Loki's room.

There is no response to the first knock on the door, so you unceremoniously just open it and let yourself in. "Dear Prince, dinner is getting cold." Loki sits in his chair with a book and looks up as you place the tray on a table. "Room service? That’s nice." He sets aside his reading and steps closer. "Better not get used to it”, you reply with your brow raised. The corners of Loki's lips twitch upward, but he doesn't press further. His attention is on the food you've brought. "That smells magical." Although you're used to getting praised about your cooking and also know exactly what you're capable of, you're very happy to hear, and you notice a flutter in your stomach. That’s weird. "You should try it", you say quickly. The Asgardian looks at you thoughtfully before nodding slowly. However, he makes no move to reach for the silverware. You sigh softly, wish him a bon appetite and then go back to the new dining room, since you yourself are quite hungry as well. There the meal is still in full swing and as you sit down, you receive further praise, which you accept with a smile.

This routine goes on for a few days. It's always a different combination of people sitting at the table, depending on who's in the house at the time. But Loki never shows up. Contrary to what you said, you bring him his dish every time. You always get a little compliment about how the food looks or how a certain spice smells good. But he never eats anything in your presence, nor do you know if he really likes it. The plates always show up freshly washed in the cupboard the next morning.

It makes you a little sad, especially because you notice that Loki seems to visit you less and less often. Today is one of those rare encounters and in your conversation you come up of your imprisonment here in the tower. "Oh, what would I do to visit the farmers market again”, you sigh. Jarvis orders everything you need, but the stuff fis nothing compared to the fresh produce from the farmer, who still collects eggs from the hen house himself in the morning. Loki creates a shiny silhouette of a rabbit that runs through the air around your outstretched fingers and then slowly dissolves into gold dust. He seems to weigh the options. His time here is getting quite long as well, and he has been looking for a way to stir up a little trouble for a while now. And if it's just for a major disagreement among the so called Avengers.... Thinking about this, he turns his head to you. "I could arrange that”, he replies absently. You perk up and look at him puzzled. "I can send you out early in the morning disguised in an illusion and you'll be back before anyone notices you're missing." It takes your brain a moment to process the idea. "That's genius", you finally bring out quietly. "But that's way too simple for it to work. Why haven't you done this yourself before?" Loki holds up a wrist with the blinking bracelets. He would trigger an alarm if he tried leaving the building with them or took them off. "Right, sorry." You let the plan run through your mind. As you do, something occurs to you that dampens your euphoria. "Jarvis monitors everything and would report something like this immediately if he overheard it." A soft crackle is heard before the computer's voice rings out. "That‘s correct, Miss Barton." So this was no option. Too bad. But maybe it was time to talk to Maria Hill again about your stay here.

It's the next morning and you're just about to fry up some bacon and eggs for breakfast when Loki enters the kitchen. It seems unusual to you, especially because you've already seen his dishes from last night dinner in the cupboard. "Good morning", you greet him. "Up early?" "I’ve got news", he replies mysteriously, beckoning you to join him. Curious, you take a few steps closer, but that's not enough for him and he leans forward, bridging the last bit to you to whisper something in your ear. At first you're surprised, you've never been this close to him before, both of you keeping a personal comfort zone clear around you. For the first time you can really perceive his scent, of which usually only a hint had remained. And you pull yourself together to actively listen to him and not get distracted. What he has to tell you is really interesting and when he finishes his explanation, you look at him and nod enthusiastically. Before he can pull away, you hug him, which again seems to surprise him. However, you also quickly let go of him so that he doesn't change his mind about his idea.

On the following Saturday you get up very early. It‘s still dark outside and the others are probably still asleep. At least you hope so. Well, everyone except Loki, who has managed to make it look like you woke up to go shortly to the bathroom and then back to your bed again. But in reality, you're walking through the streets of New York with a shopping basket. It's wonderful and you still can't believe that it really did work. You just have to be careful not to run into anyone who might recognize you, because the illusion only works digitally. When you left the tower through the underground parking garage, you made sure to avoid all employees and went unnoticed. And now you walk with joyful steps in the direction of the farmers market.

The name may be a bit confusing, because here you can find everything that nature has to offer in terms of food: from fish to cheese to fruit. And the hall is huge. So you don't mind that the sun was just rising. You love the dozens of different smells that hit you as soon as you enter, with new ones coming in at every corner. It's loud as people haggle, praise their wares, and some argue over prices. You take your time shopping for the best ingredients. You had made a rough plan of what you need for the next few days beforehand. However, you realize soon that it's way too much and you'll never be able to transport all the stuff back alone. So you abandon the plan again and buy what appeals to you spontaneously.

After a short discussion with a merchant about the ripeness of mangoes, you decide that you want to bring Loki something for his trouble. Of course, you realize, there is nothing like that feeling of freedom, of being able to move outside without worrying about anything, of feeling the wind in your hair. But a little gift is in order. So you go searching through the stalls. Meanwhile, you think about the Norse god. You can no longer deny that you've developed feelings for him. But you're not sure if it's just a crush or something serious. You wouldn't rule out some kind of Stockholm syndrome either. He’s good looking, tall and exactly your type. Although that's just the surface. There is still this sharp-tongued and challenging nature, but you have also met his considerate and compassionate side. And he seems eager to entertain and distract you in your position as a fellow prisoner, so to speak - because that's how you still see yourself. Even if it's just through little magical tricks or a laugh. Loki's amused laughter is a wonderful sound. His velvet voice in general.

You sigh softly, recalling the reason why Loki is here in the first place. He's a troublemaker, and in the past he's gone too far. It’s a shame. Really. Also, he's some kind of god. To him, you're just a nice mortal in a boring, ungrateful world. Perhaps a good companion in a house full of fools. After all, you know about the strained relationship between Loki and the Avengers. That's no big secret.

Late in the morning, you sneak into the Tower the same way you left it. None of the Avengers are up yet, at least none cross your path, so you quickly stow your purchase in the kitchen and then go back to your apartment to dissolve Loki's illusion. Afterwards, you knock on the Asgardians door. "Come in." You enter and find the one you're looking for standing by the windows. "Ah, there you are", he states, and you merely nod. As if he didn't already know that. Otherwise, Jarvis would probably be pretty confused that you're standing here and sleeping in your bed at the same time. "I have something for you”, you tell him, trying to maintain a neutral tone. With no word you must reveal your trip. You hand him a bowl in which lay some red and yellow fruits in the shape of stars. Astonished, Loki looks at you. "I know, it's just something small", you say evasively. "But try it." Loki takes one and bites into it.

It's a rare fruit and you spotted it more by accident at a small stall in the market, had almost passed by. It tastes sweet and had several dozen small seeds inside that tingle on your tongue as you chew. "That's... very interesting", Loki comments after swallowing the second bite. “Good", he adds when he sees the look on your face, and he smiles. "Good interesting."

During one of Thor's longer stays in the Tower, you strike up a conversation with him and ask him a little about the cuisines of the other worlds. After all, the prince has traveled them and knows a thing or two. And you make him promise to bring you some typical specialties from his homeland next time. In addition, you ask him to tell you about the dishes that he and Loki prefer. An idea has taken root in your brain that won't let you go: to prepare the two princes' favorite Asgardian dishes. That would be a welcoming challenge.

By now, you've gotten a pretty good idea of the favorite foods of your other Avengers. It's probably hardest with Tony. Because on the one hand he's used to overpriced five-star restaurants whenever he takes Pepper out to a Date. But on the other hand he's the one of the group you see most often with a fast food burger or a frozen pizza. And when you ask him about it, he just replies that he likes everything that’s prepared by a pretty woman anyway. Tiresome.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel #maria hill

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